


Gemini - Spring Days

by JMSanz



Series: Gemini [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Future, Complementary art every now and then, Deviates from canon after Vol 6, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Faunus Protagonists, Fluff and Angst, Lots and lots of sibling hijinks, M/M, Multi, Protective Siblings, Slow Worldbuilding, Stablished Bumbleby marriage, Twins, long story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 139,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMSanz/pseuds/JMSanz
Summary: It's been 8 years since the fall of The Witch Salem and the end of the great Grimm War. The world of Remnant has been slowly recovering from its wounds, old grudges between kingdoms have been forgotten and the Grimm are only a few decades away from total extintion.Life seems more promising than ever... for most.Phoebe and Damon have been living on the streets of Mistral for almost half a year, and each and every day has been a constant struggle for survival. But perhaps a fateful encounter with a veteran Huntress will change their world forever.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Yang Xiao Long & Blake Belladonna & Original Child Character(s)
Series: Gemini [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989229
Comments: 219
Kudos: 209





	1. Ep I: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novelization of my failed webcomic attempt.
> 
> After trying really hard for a couple months I finally realized that it was not my thing. I really wanted it to work out, but I didn't have the skills or the time to make it work without straining myself... But I still want to tell this story, so here we are!
> 
> If you're here from the comic, thanks a lot for staying and giving me a chance, I appreciate it more than you can imagine! If you just discovered this story, then I hope it is to your liking!

Mistral is a beautiful place. Some would even go as far as to say that it is breathtakingly beautiful. A whole city built all over the surface of a mountain, so the peaks, trees, cascades and waterfalls become part of its scenery. A literal feast to your senses.

But that’s just like staring at an apple. From the outside it’s a healthy red, it smells sweet, it’s fresh... But when you take a bite you find out it’s infested by worms and half rotten on the inside.

Of course, that also depends on who you ask. People of the upper districts might tell you of its numerous contributions to art, culture and literature, while someone from the suburbs would probably tell you it’s one of the prime beacons of crime, slavery and poverty of all Remnant.

The social gap between the lower and higher Mistral is just as absurd as the gap that used to divide Mantle and Atlas, and that’s saying a lot. At least the snobs from Atlas regained some decency and finally grounded the flying city. But the snobs over here still enjoyed the view from the top of the mountain while the rest squirmed near its belly.

But, well… that’s just the way the world works.

The sun is already setting and casting long shadows over the lower districts when the third and probably last stranger of the day decides to drop a few coins on their small plate. Phoebe is glad to get at least a few more lien after what could be considered a pretty bad day, but her scowl only deepens when she looks at the stranger and notices how he doesn’t even spare them a sideways glance before walking away.

The very act of dropping the money looks as empty and cold as if he was disposing of something in a dumpster. It’s nice to get money for food, but sometimes she thinks that it’s simply not worth the effort when people don’t even regard them as living beings anymore.

“Thank you so much, sir!” Damon quickly says while leaning over their cardboard, even when the man is already a few feet away with his back turned. They almost never respond, but that doesn’t stop Damon from being… well, Damon.

Looking at her twin, Phoebe can’t help the little smile tugging at her lips.

It’s right at these moments that she always reconsiders and decides that it’s actually worth it. She’s willing to take all the crap in the world in exchange for seeing her twin smile, him being here with her the only redeeming quality of being homeless kids in one of the most tightwad cities of Remnant.

_Groooooooooowl..._

Which of course doesn’t diminish the fact that they’re beggars nonetheless, and that life is a constant struggle against hunger, cold and other unspeakable hardships.

Frowning again, Phoebe turns to look at her twin, who’s back at his usual sitting stance with knees high and his head resting on top of them. He tries to look nonchalant, pretending that that didn’t just happen, but his tummy betrays him once again.

_Groooooooooooooooooowl…_

He shuts his eyes and grimaces, as if chastising his treacherous body for its insubordination, but Phoebe shakes her head and doesn’t wait a second to take action.

“Wait here, I’ll go buy you a sandwich, okay?” she asks for the sake of letting him know as she stretches from her sitting position. It’s not like she’s taking ‘no’ for an answer. She never does.

“N-No! I’m fine,” he says in a hurry, catching the hem of her ragged and filthy t-shirt to stop her. “We need the money to get a nice place to sleep!”

“You dummy! What’s the point of getting a place to sleep if we’re gonna starve?!” she snaps at him, more angry at the easy dismissing of his own health than anything else. And besides, he just had to take a look at the few coins they had to see that it wasn’t nearly enough to get a place to sleep.

Damon stares at her for just a second and immediately shrinks, looking away in embarrassment like the scolded child he is.

Sometimes it’s so hard to get him to eat even when it’s so painfully obvious that he’s starving, that she could swear her dum-dum of a brother is actively trying to starve himself to death or something. Well sadly for him, that won’t be happening on her watch.

“Really…” she sighs, reaching for the meager amount of money on their plate.

Come on, it wouldn’t be the first —neither the last— time that they’d slept out on the streets. In fact, she could probably count more nights sleeping under the starry sky than beneath a comfy and warm roof. And make no mistake, it was always nice to sleep indoors, but experience had taught her that a night spent on the streets could be endured as long as you had something on your belly, whilst going to bed with an empty stomach could lead to a sleepless night, leaving you even weaker in the morning. Besides, it was cold, but it wasn’t _that_ cold when you had a warm pillow of your exact same size and form to snuggle with every night… At least that’s what she thought, maybe he just didn’t share her opinion. Wait, maybe she wasn’t warm at all to the touch! Oh shoot, what if she’d been actually making him feel colder and that was his gentle way of letting her know?!

She shakes her head and focuses on counting the money. She and Damon had no secrets with each other, if he was uncomfortable in any way he would tell her.

“Let’s see… At Canary’s they sell grilled sandwiches for three lien,” she remembers from the last few times they’d been at the small cafe. Nice, warm and not too expensive. “We have a lien, a dime, two quarters…”

She feels Damon shifting at her left as a shadow looms over them both, obscuring her hand and making the coins unreadable.

“U-Uh, hello,” she hears him say all of a sudden.

Oh, perhaps it hadn’t been the last stranger of the day after all. A few more coins would be appreciated.

Phoebe looks up to take in the view of the person who’d actually stopped to regard them as more than inanimate objects. This time is a woman. An imposing-looking woman with a long mane of really pretty blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a long —looks like leather— coat and absurdly fancy shades. And, is that a freaking robot arm?! Phoebe didn’t even know those were a thing outside TV-shows and movies!

The weird and —she suddenly realizes— dangerous-looking woman keeps staring at them in complete silence for a second. She tilts her head slightly and Phoebe guesses that she’s taking a look at their poorly-made cardboard begging sign. She internally cringes at the way they initially misspelled part of the message despite the fact that they were properly schooled in the orphanage… Damon always assured her that it gave the sign a more innocent and sincere touch, so they went ahead and used it as it was, but it was still a bit embarrassing.

If the woman thinks it’s funny, she hides it pretty well, her mouth set in a straight line and her eyes shadowed by her sunglasses.

Then, as if she hadn’t been standing before them for a straight ten awkward seconds without saying a thing, she removes her sunglasses, revealing her bright lilac eyes.

“Hey there!” she says, beaming at them with a kind smile.

Phoebe’s danger radar starts beeping like mad in her head. People don’t just stop by a couple of beggars to greet them, and she looks suspicious enough…

Still, the woman keeps smiling and crouches so she can be eye to eye with them, letting the lower side of her long coat rest on the floor behind her. “I’m Yang, what are your names?” she asks merrily.

“Are you a cop?” Phoebe asks back, having seen easily through her facade.

“W-What?”

“You kinda look like a cop,” she declares. And it’s true, cops always wore leather jackets like that, and those big shades were basically their trademark. Sorry lady, but Phoebe has seen too many movies to be fooled by your friendly approach.

“P-Phoebe! You’re being rude!” Damon scolds her, blushing.

This boy… he really needs to be a bit more perceptive. Sometimes she wondered what would become of him if she wasn’t around to protect him.

“Come on, don’t you see how weird she looks?” she tries to reason, ignoring the awkward look the woman is giving them. “She could be an undercover cop, or worse, a bounty hunter!”

That has to be it. The old hag from the orphanage surely hired a mercenary or something to take them back against their will.

“I-I’m not a cop… or a bounty hunter, I swear…” the blonde shyly adds, but goes completely ignored as the twins keep arguing between themselves.

“She could be a Huntress though!” Damon tells her, furrowing his brows.

She… can’t argue with that, actually.

“That’s right, I’m a Huntress!” the woman exclaims, raising her voice a few tones to earn their attention, but she quickly waves her hands in front of her as soon as Phoebe pierces her with a cold glare. “B-But I’m not gonna call the cops, or anyone, I promise!” she assures them with a serious expression.

Phoebe is still not convinced, but Damon touches her arm, getting her to look at him. His eyes are soft, but the look of disapproval on his face is unmistakable. “She seems like a nice person, sis… Please, be nice.”

It amazes her how quickly they could switch roles. Just a minute ago, it was Phoebe reprimanding her twin for his lack of self-preservation, and now it was her turn to be at the receiving end of the “scolding”. Of course, Damon never really raises his voice, but somehow that gentle reprimand makes her feel even worse… 

But she isn’t going to apologize so she merely clicks her tongue and looks away. “Whatever…”

Damon sighs, knowing better than to try and get an apology out of her, but he straightens to regard the stranger once again.

“Sorry about that, she… she doesn’t like strangers very much,” he explains on her behalf, “not many people stop to talk to us.”

“It’s ok, I understand.” The woman smiles warmly, sparing one look at Phoebe before turning her attention back to the boy. “Can you tell me your names?”

“Sure! I’m Damon, and this is my sister Phoebe!” he exclaims eagerly. “Nice to meet you!”

The woman seems delighted, and smiles widely in response. “Likewise!” Then, as if she had been waiting for this very moment, her expression shifts to a bashful frown as she eyes their begging sign one more time. “You see, Damon… I really don’t want to be nosy but… Are you two here by yourselves?”

Phoebe is barely looking at them, but somehow she’s able to feel Damon’s eyes falling on her the moment the question leaves the woman’s lips, wondering if he can trust her enough to speak further.

“Ah, well… Y-Yeah.” He says, eyes still fixed on her.

The woman doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. She frowns, and Phoebe notices how the grip on her sunglasses tightens ever so slightly. “What about your parents? Where are—?”

“We were abandoned,” Phoebe confesses, lowering her gaze. She knows Damon would’ve had it rough to explain their situation. This way they can stop beating around the bush.

Damon falls silent. The blonde’s face darkens, her expression unreadable. “I see,” she barely whispers.

...

Then suddenly, she stands up and takes a step towards them, resting her back against the wall and sliding down until her butt plops on the ground, at Damon’s left.

She looks at both of them, smiling in a way unbefitting of the awkwardness of the situation, then says, “Me too.”

Both twins stare at the woman, Yang, taking in that simple statement.

Phoebe doesn’t know what it is, but there’s a certain something about the way she says it that feels so incredibly genuine… She can’t help but voice her curiosity without even intending to. “Really?”

Yang nods, raising her knees to her chest to be more comfortable. “Yeah, my mom left before I can even remember. Back then I didn’t even know how she looked.”

“And your dad?” Damon asks timidly while voicing his sister’s own thoughts.

The huntress closes her eyes with a serene smile, as if recalling happier memories. “He took care of me on his own until he remarried a couple years later. My new stepmom was awesome in all kinds of ways, nothing like the ones you see in fairy tales,” then her smile fades away, “but she died when I was your age, and suddenly I had to become a mom to my new baby sister.”

Damon looks like he’s about to say something, but Yang turns her attention to them and goes on. “I know it’s not nearly the same, but… I understand what it’s like to be left on your own. And you don’t have to go through that, you know? There’s a place with very nice people that takes care of kids like you,” she assures them with a hoping look in her eyes, seemingly unaware of the way the twins slump their shoulders and look at each other. “A place with real beds, and full meals everyday.”

She speaks so full hope... like she’s just found the answer to all their problems.

Sadly, they know better.

“You mean the orphanage?” Phoebe asks, lowering her eyes again. “We won’t.”

Yang seems momentarily taken aback by the little girl’s bluntness, but she doesn’t back down. “W-What? Why not? You wouldn’t have to live on the streets!” she says, turning completely to look at them.

Phoebe sighs and steals a glance at her twin. Damon looks back, frowning, and nods to her unspoken question.

She supposes she can tell her… If only to get even with Yang for telling them about her.

“We’ve been in one before,” she starts, leaning against the wall to get comfortable, “we grew up there, actually.”

Yang shifts so she’s now sat cross legged, her eyes fixed on her, while Damon’s just staring at the street with a distant look.

“Life there was ok, even though we were a _lot_ ,” she continues nonchalantly, picturing the crowded dining room that had been a part of their lives for as long as they can remember. Age-worn tables, kids drawings filling out the empty spaces left by the paint on the walls, and a sea of rowdy children stuffing their mouths with ready-to-eat meals. “There was barely enough food for everyone, and we were so many that most of us had to share beds. But still, it was nice.”

The twins had been some of those who’d had to share but, honestly, they even preferred it that way. Right now they couldn’t even imagine how spending a night sleeping apart would feel.

“Over the years we saw many friends leaving with their new families. It was sad but we—” she looks at her twin from the corner of the eye, his gaze has lowered to the floor in front of him, “we’d be good as long as we were together.”

It’s awkward to be telling this much to a complete stranger, but she somehow makes it easy to trust her. It’s a little scary…

Phoebe breathes through her mouth, already grimacing for what comes next. “Then one day,” she starts, her voice taking a scornful tone, “the orphanage headmistress came to us with a couple that wanted to adopt. Both of them wore fancy dresses, so I guess they were some upper-class snobs from the higher districts.”

“Wasn’t that a good thing for you?” Yang asks, arching a brow and taking the chance to interrupt.

“They wanted me,” Phoebe responds grimly, then feels the need to clarify even more, “just me.”

She could still remember the face of the old hag when she said ‘no way in hell’, somehow shocked that a 7 year old girl would rather stay with her twin on the orphanage than leave with brand new loving and caring —and rich— parents.

Damon visibly flinches. She enjoys recalling all that just as much as him, but it serves its purpose of reasserting their unwillingness to go back.

“The headmistress told us that few people were willing to adopt a faunus orphan, much less two,” she continues.

“She said that?” Yang asks, as if she can’t really believe it.

“Yeah.”

The woman’s face contorts into one of pure disgust, like she’d just sucked on a lemon. Just for that, Phoebe can tell that at least Yang isn’t a racist prick like —apparently— the other three quarters of the whole damn world. Even though their animal trait isn’t like, as evident as horns, tails or ears, it’s still something that others could use as an excuse to look down on them.

“‘Be reasonable, it’s the best way to find you both a good home’, it’s what she said,” she quoted, doing her best impression of a fifty-something idiotic hag. “She told us that another family would adopt Damon eventually, and then everything would be fine. Can you believe it?!”

“That’s horrible,” Yang agrees, still frowning.

“I refused, but she was going to go with it anyway, saying that we didn’t know what was ‘best for us’,” she spits the rest while making quotation marks.

In that moment she looks at Damon, who’s been silent for a little while, and puts a hand on his knee. She wants him to look back at her. He does, albeit slowly. She doesn’t really know for sure, but perhaps for a second back then, her twin might’ve really thought that he was gonna be left behind.

“So we ran away,” she concludes with a proud smile, and gives him a tiny squeeze, hoping to get her message through.

It does, because the corner of his lips turn upwards shyly, and his eyes regain some of that ‘Damon brightness’ that Phoebe can’t live without. It’s been around six months —she thinks— and she still doesn’t regret her choice of running away with him. Probably never will. What could those snobs offer her anyway? Fancy clothes? Toys? All the sweets she could eat? Ha! They couldn’t fill the hole left by losing half of her very soul anyway.

Yang watches the whole exchange in silence and with a troubled look on her face. “You’re both very brave,” she says with a tinge of sadness in her voice, staring absent-mindedly at the main street as if she was looking past the cars, passersby and background faces. “No kid should ever go through something like that.”

The twins look at her, neither really knowing what to say to that, but Phoebe guesses the woman’s probably talking more to herself than to them.

And then, Yang simply stands up without saying a word, takes a few steps away from them and stretches her arms. Well... at least the one that’s still flesh and muscle. Or can the robot arm actually stretch and relieve some kind of ‘robot stress’? As Phoebe ponders over the silly question, the woman turns back to face them, her ponytail flowing gracefully behind her.

“Hey, what do you think about spending a few days in a real home?” she asks joyfully with her hands on her waist.

…

It takes…

It takes a few seconds for them to register the correct meaning behind the use of those words in that specific order.

“WHAT?!” they cry out loud at the same time.

The few passersby close enough to hear them over the rumbling of the vehicles give them but a couple of seconds of attention before returning to their own agendas. Thank you, Mistral. Please, don’t mind these two screaming children in the middle of the street and go back to your thing.

... 

Really, she can’t be serious… And if she isn’t, that’s some sick joke right there.

But lo and behold, the crazy woman takes their surprise as encouragement and steps forward. “Sounds good, huh? Much better than a couple of lien, right?” she says with a glint in her eyes, fully convinced of the awesome deal she’s offering them.

“A-A real home…,” Damon whispers, blushing madly at the prospect.

But Phoebe isn’t so easily deceived. “We barely even know you!” she shouts, trying to bring some common sense into the conversation.

Yang stands dumb-founded for a moment and then laughs awkwardly while scratching her neck. “I know, I know… Of course, that’s true,” she then takes on a more serious tone, still awkward, like she too is trying to make some sense of what she’s saying, yet somehow genuine, “but I can’t just leave you here, you know? Knowing that I could’ve helped you, _truly_ helped you, but didn’t… I wouldn’t be able to live with that!”

Damon steals a hesitant glance at her, trying to figure out what she’s thinking, if maybe she’s considering it as well. He’s too naive, if it were up to him they’d have already taken Yang upon her offer.

“Just think about it,” Yang presses on, lifting a metallic finger for emphasis, “if you come with me, you can eat to your heart’s content, wash your clothes and sleep in a real bed for a change.”

It’s… alluring, not even Phoebe can deny it, but it’s also too good to be true. Besides, she’s missing a key point in all this. After those ‘few days’, they’d go back to where they started, or worse. What if this ‘kind lady’, in her kindness, decided to take them back to the orphanage rather than let them on the streets?

“Yeah, and then what? What happens to us after that?” she points out to her, furrowing her brow.

Yang bites her lower lip, but raises a hand —her robot one— to her chest. “Look, no matter what happens after… I _promise_ I won’t take you anywhere you don’t want to go,” weirdly enough in this situation, she’s the one that’s actually doing the begging. “Just... let me do this for you, _please_.”

Phoebe can’t… She just... can’t.

She already entrusted the grown-ups with her life in the past, and it’s obvious how well that went. She wants to, she totally, absolutely wants to… but she can’t afford to be wrong again. Because if she is, next time Damon might not be sitting at her side.

She’s about to turn her down and tell her to leave them alone, but when she looks up Damon is already on his feet, between her and Yang.

“Damon?” Phoebe asks, confused.

Her twin looks back at her with hope in his eyes. “M-Maybe we could go with her, sis…”

Phoebe grimaces. “No, we can’t! She’s a stranger!” she doesn’t enjoy having to burst Damon’s bubble like this, but she has to be the voice of reason. “We can’t just leave with the first person that’s nice to us, you know that!”

As she has nothing to say to refute her argument, Yang looks away, somewhat deflated.

Clearly discouraged but still not giving up, Damon clasps his hands together and starts fidgeting, as he usually does when he gets nervous. “I know...! B-But I like her, and I think she _really_ wants to help us.”

“I do.” Yang nods, trying to sound honest.

“And yo—” he starts then immediately corrects himself, although Phoebe doesn’t quite catch it, “a-and _we_ could really use a break from all this. Yeah, we may be back where we started afterwards but, can we really let a chance like this just… pass us by?” he takes a tentative step forward. “Just for a few days, please…”

She can tell that he’s really serious about it, but the voice in her head keeps telling her that she shouldn’t trust anyone, except for him. Yang seems… nice enough, she can at least give her that, but that’s exactly what makes everything too good to be true.

She doesn’t know what to do...

“I don’t know...” it’s all she can say, lowering her head.

She hears Damon blowing air through his nose —a gesture she’s rarely seen coming from him—, and when she looks up he’s standing there with his hand outstretched to her. His eyes are sharp, but Phoebe can tell by the way his lips twitch that he’s trying to put up a strong front.

Still, he doesn’t stutter when he tells her, “Get up Phoebe, we’re _not_ passing up on this.”

...

Phoebe has to double check to make sure that she’s heard right. 

That wasn’t a request, he gave her an _order_. Damon, probably the most naive and innocent boy in the whole planet. The kind of kid that can’t bring himself to hurt a fly without making a big drama about it.

This whole thing seems to mean a great deal to him for some reason…

Phoebe can only lock eyes with him, frowning to let him know that she doesn’t agree. Their friends back at the orphanage called it the “mom look”, one of the most powerful weapons known to mankind. But Damon responds with a mom look of his own. And so they get into a weird staring contest that lasts for several seconds.

She finds out… that she doesn’t like that look on his face. It doesn’t suit him.

…

Maybe she can’t trust grown-ups, but… she can trust him. Perhaps he has a better judge of character than she ever gave him credit for.

She sighs, loud and tired. “You’re a real handful, you know that?” she starts, taking his hand and climbing to her feet. “I really can’t stand that look on your face.”

They’re eye to eye, and his expression has shifted to one of surprise, his thick eyebrows shooting up to the top of his forehead. He really didn’t believe it was gonna work, did he? This dummy…

“Listen here, if we end up in the orphanage _again_ ,” she pinches his cheek and gives it a healthy pull to get her point across, while he can only squirm and whimper like a defenseless puppy, “you’ll be the one to get us out this time. Got it?”

As Phoebe lets go, Damon’s cheerful smile returns, brighter than ever. “Got it!” he answers while caressing his cheek innocently.

That look —Phoebe thinks, smiling to herself— suits him much more.

Taking it as her cue, Yang finally steps in, arms crossed and wearing an amused smile. “So…?” she feels the need to ask.

Damon eagerly takes his twin’s hand in his and turns to look at the woman, his eyes shining with anticipation. Phoebe holds on tightly to him, although she isn’t as excited as her brother.

“We’re coming with you, miss Yang!” he declares proudly.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh!” It’s slow at first, but soon the woman is practically vibrating where she stands, covering her mouth to… keep helsef from screaming? “You won’t regret it, I promise! I make the best cookies in the world!”

Her energy is certainly intoxicating, and the twins —even Phoebe!— soon find themselves smiling at her antics.

“Come on, my car is parked just a few blocks away!” she exclaims, gesturing them to follow her.

Before leaving, Phoebe makes sure to pick up the few coins on their plate and hide their cardboards under a nearby dumpster. It would be easy to find more in the trash when they got back, but they’d somehow grown attached to it.

She quickly rejoins Yang and Damon, joining hands with her twin to follow the huntress down the street.

“So, where do you live?” she asks Yang, if only to make short talk. “In the upper districts?”

“Oh, no. I live in the outskirts,” she corrects. “My wife isn’t very fond of the hustle and bustle of the city, so we bought a house in a quiet little village in the south.”

“Sounds nice,” Damon adds, smiling.

“It is, you’ll see!”

Phoebe takes one last look at their little filthy corner as they venture into the unknown once more. They walk hand in hand, just like last time, and it’s the only thing she needs to know that they’ll be fine no matter what happens.


	2. Ep I: Chapter 2

Blake has grown quite used to giving public speeches.

It’s one of those few things related to her job that she couldn’t avoid, so she had no other choice but to master it as soon as possible. One might argue that, having been a quiet introvert ever since her teenage years, she would try to find a job that didn’t force her to speak in front or nearly two thousand people. But alas, this is the life she chose.

She didn’t regret doing it though, quite the opposite. The White Fang had been on the verge of falling apart back then, and someone had to make sure it got back on the right path. And now, after all those years, she can honestly say that even if she knew all the hard work it would take, she would’ve still made the same choice.

Even so, speaking in public sucks.

Her cat ears twitch as she works on the last paragraph of her opening speech on the computer. Her study is filled with the aroma of freshly-brewed chamomile tea, and the last sun rays of the day bath Himawari village and spill through the window, painting the room a beautiful shade of amber. Everything is in place to boost her inspiration.

“‘Therefore, the opening of the first FIS office in Atlas will grant faunus working and living in the kingdom the advice and legal protection they deserve against abuse and discrimination at work’”, she reads out loud while typing it with speed and accuracy earned by years of practice.

FIS… Even now it sounds so unfamiliar…

One of the first things Blake took into consideration after she officially became the… ugh, new “High Leader” of the White Fang was to completely remodel the organization’s structure and public image, starting with its name.

Aside from the fact that “White Fang” doesn’t convey the group’s main purpose of raising the faunus social status to match that of humans, it was a name that had been forever tainted by terrorism and bloodshed in the past. It could no longer be mentioned without bringing up the group’s former violent nature. That was pure logic.

So Blake, with the advice of her most trusted ones, decided to rename it as the _Faunus Integration Syndicate_ , or FIS for short. Then she proceeded to remove the position of High Leader, a title that was more befitting of an ancient warlord in a quest for conquest than that of the head of a non-governmental organization seeking to improve the world. She would henceforth bear the title of Committee Chairwoman, a mere representative of the whole 15-member assembly that managed the group’s status and everyday course of action.

It did fall to her the task of choosing each and every member of this council however, but no one ever accused her of favoritisms or being biased, not even when she appointed her own parents and a close friend as part of the assembly. They earned their place with their wise advice and their honest will to do good to society. Besides, a part of her believed that those who’d already made the mistake in the past and learned from it were less likely to repeat it.

“Okay, now wait for the applause,” she goes on, making sure to write the note down. “‘Now, I would not like to end this speech without giving my most sincere thanks to the Schnee Dust Company...’”

Dear heavens, the irony.

But hey, credit where credit is due. Mantle had been a little more accepting and inclusive from the beginning, but this would have taken a lot longer if not for Weiss providing support and easing the snob Atlas “elite” groups into the agreement.

Speaking of which. “‘Especially to its very own president, for her…’”

Huh, for her what? ‘Precious’? ‘Significant’? That’s formal enough, right?

She doesn’t want to inflate her old teammate’s ego more than it already is, but she has to admit that Weiss is a far cry from the pretentious little princess she was when they first met. She’d worked just as hard as Blake to make a difference and she deserv— Oh, ‘invaluable’! That’s it!

“Yes—’for her invaluable friendship and continuous support to our cause. It’s thanks to people like her that we’re able to change the world for the better, to a new Remnant where we’re all equal and have the same rights and opportunities, no matter what species we are.’” She finishes, writing in the last few notes. “Salute, get off the stage, yada yada…”

Blake leans back on the chair, looking at her progress with a satisfied smile. The opening ceremony is still three months away, but it’s nice to have it all wrapped up beforehand. She also makes a mental note of sending it to Ilia and her father so they can review it. They’re good critics when it comes to speeches.

Knowing her job is done, Blake picks up the flower-pattern teacup resting besides the computer and basks on its smell. “Not bad, Belladonna, not bad at all. You’re really getting the hang of this.”

As she carefully raises the teacup to her lips, the doorbell rings.

***DING*DONG***

Weird, they weren’t expecting anyone today. “Huh, who could it—?”

***DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG***

To say that she almost drops the entire cup of boiling water on her lap would be an understatement. Still, as she —by some miracle— manages to hold on to the cup with a shaky hand and bring it to her lips, she finds her answer. “Yang…”

Because who else would take so much pleasure in tormenting her than Yang?

***DING*DONG***

She sighs and gets up reluctantly, leaving the teacup on its saucer. “Comiiiing!”

Making her way through the living room, she starts to question her wife’s ability to keep her own head on her shoulders if it were not for the fact that it’s attached to her neck. “I told you! Forget your keys one more time and you’ll spend the night outside!” she raises her voice to threaten her wife.

This is the ninth time Yang gets stuck outside in the last five months… Blake can understand that getting used to a new house takes some time, but it’s been nearly a year since they finally moved from Menagerie. She’s had plenty of time already!

Perhaps she could get Ruby to put a keychain or something like that on Yang’s arm...

“Sorry! My bad!” comes her wife’s voice from the other side of the door, more cheerful than apologetic, to her dismay. “I kinda have a good reason, though!”

Of course she does…

Despite everything, Blake’s anger never lasts for too long. Yang’s carefree attitude is just one of her many lovable quirks, probably something she inherited from her dad. Oh, that reminds her… “Anyway, your father called,” she says, raising her voice a bit less as she unlocks the door, “he wanted to know if we’ll be… going to…”

The words die out in her mouth as she opens the door.

Yang is standing there at the threshold with her hands on her waist, smiling widely. But she’s not alone, there are two children at her side. A girl and a boy of around... six, seven, maybe eight years old, wearing ragged clothes and completely covered in dirt. They stare at her awkwardly through blue and green eyes, the girl stiff as a table and the boy fidgeting nervously.

“Hey, kitty! Guess what? We have guests!” her wife exclaims all too happy, gesturing to the kids.

Blake can only stare at the three of them, bewildered by the sudden development. “Guests?”

But Yang seems to pay her no mind, as if inviting random people to stay at their home was something they did on a daily basis. “Yep! These are Damon and Phoebe. They’ll be staying with us for a couple of days if that’s okay with you.”

What? Staying with them?

It’s… It’s not that she’s not okay with it per se, but there’s a certain way of doing these kind of things. This is too sudden, too out of the blue, even for Yang.

Blake tries to say something, at least to demand a bit more context on the matter, but Yang pats the kids on the shoulder, bending a little to be more eye to eye with them and goes on, “Kids, this is my wife, Blake.”

Both of them step forward, encouraged by the blonde, but they can barely look Blake in the eyes. Even they understand the awkwardness of the situation. It seems that the only one who doesn’t find this whole scenario weird is Yang herself.

“N-Nice to meet you, miss Blake,” mutters the boy.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am…” follows the girl.

Blake’s ears drop in embarrassment. “I-I…” she stammers, not knowing how to handle this situation.

She locks eyes with Yang, and this time her wife’s looking right back at her with hope-filled eyes. It’s an expression Blake has seen quite a few times on the woman’s face over the years. It conveyed a simple message.

‘ _Trust me_ ’

...

Yang may be an airhead, but trusting her is one of those few things in life she can do without hesitation. There is more to this than Blake can tell, that much is clear. And now she understands that Yang is being oblivious about it for the children’s sake. It’s something that can be discussed when they’re out of ear’s reach...

As her ears perk up once again, Blake beckons the three of them to enter with a welcoming smile. “Likewise. Please, come in.”

Her wife smiles from ear to ear and wastes no time in urging the kids to go inside. “Alright, let’s go!”

Both children hesitantly step into the house while Yang spares a second to give her a peck on the cheek and whisper a quick “thank you” before following the kids. Blake can do nothing more than to sigh contentedly and close the door behind her.

As they gather around the center of the room, Yang takes off her heavy combat coat and hangs it on a nearby chair. Under it, she’s wearing a white sport tank top —one of the many she has— that leaves her arms exposed. The golden mechanical arm no longer surprises her. It may have changed in size and appearance over the years due to maintenance, remodeling and close encounters with Grimm, but now trying to imagine her wife without it is simply impossible. It had come a long way, together with the both of them and Yang was proud to display it by having the sleeve of the coat rolled up at all times.

The sight of her left arm however... that still needed some time getting used to.

The moment the blonde pulls the left sleeve out, her left arm comes into view. Near the bottom of Yang’s neck, her smooth pink-coloured skin gives way to a patch of darker rough-looking skin that devours the left side of her torso. Ribcage, belly, and the full length of her left arm are completely covered in third-degree burns which, although healed, have left her physically scarred for life.

She can still remember how the doofus had been unwilling to leave them exposed when they were together, believing she wouldn’t find her attractive anymore. Blake had proved her wrong of course, in more ways than one... It took some time, but her wife finally accepted her new badge of honor with pride, and she was comfortable enough to leave the scars visible even in the presence of others.

And it seems she doesn’t have to worry too much about the young ‘others’ present at the moment because, if they noticed the scars, they found the rest of the house to be far more fascinating.

“Woaaah, your house is super big!” the girl —Phoebe, was it?— exclaims from the center of the living room.

“And pretty!” the boy —Damon?— adds, starry-eyed.

Blake can certainly attest to that. Although her old house back at Menagerie was roughly four or five times bigger —seriously, that place was plain ridiculous—, a traditional country house like theirs was by no means small, especially when compared to the apartments she’d used as safe houses during her time at the White Fang. But still, it’s not like it was larger than the average house. After all, they basically chose it because it reminded Yang of her own home.

“Not bad, huh?” Yang agrees smugly while crossing her arms. “You can make yourselves at—”

“Damon, Damon!” the girl interrupts, standing next to their TV and pointing to the flat screen, “look at the size of this TV!”

The boy gasps, hurrying to her side. “Ohhhhhh, it’s huge!”

“Uh, kids?”

Blake watches Yang get ignored with a funny smile as the kids proceed to focus their attention on their L-shaped sofa.

“And this couch, it’s so soft and smooth…” Damon purrs, caressing the piece of furniture with a dreamy face.

“Yeah, ours was all worn out and creaky…” Phoebe adds with a happy sigh, joining him.

It if wasn’t for the fact that the kids were being absolutely adorable, Blake would probably be freaking out about the couch getting smeared with dirt. So, she settles for giggling and enjoying the sight as Yang’s frustration builds up.

It seems her wife finally has enough, because she makes a sonorous clap that echoes through the entire house. “Kids, listen!” This snaps them out of their astonishment and makes them look up from the couch like deers caught in the headlights. “Look, Blake and I are going to get dinner ready, ok? So how about you both go and take a bath in the meantime? Does that sound good?” Yang offers them casually. 

After spending most of her childhood taking care of Ruby, Blake can understand how she has a way with children. It just flows naturally out of her.

“Oh, sure!” the boy nods vigorously.

Blake steps forward —not wanting to leave all the responsibility to her wife— and gestures to the staircase. “Just go upstairs and take the first door, that’s the bathroom. You’ll find dry towels in the closet next to the bathtub.”

“Got it! C’mon, sis!” he answers back without even looking at them. He just takes his sister's hand and leads the way to the second floor in a hurry.

The girl mutters a surprised, “A-Ah, okay,” and follows him.

“I’ll go in a minute to lend you a change of clothes!” Yang quickly shouts as they disappear into the second floor, “just leave yours on the floor and I’ll pick them up later!”

The boy’s voice sounds distant when he answers back, “Okaaaaay!”

And then there’s only the two of them in the living room again. Yang half chuckles half sighs, still staring at the top of the stairs. “Good grief…”

Blake glances between her wife and the spot she’s looking at, until she’s certain that the kids can’t hear them. “Sooo… care to explain?” she asks with a furrowed brow.

Yang looks back at her, smiling tiredly. “It’s a long story.”


	3. Ep I: Chapter 3

There’s a recurring gag in TV shows and cartoons that Phoebe always found weird. For some reason, little kids hate bath time.

There’s always this family with these kids, and the parents would suddenly come in and tell them that it was bath time, and then the kids would completely freak out like they were just told they had to work in the mines for a month or something! It was the same scene in almost every show: the parents grabbing and shoving them into the bath, all the while the kids thrashed about and snarled like rabid animals.

She doesn’t know what kind of terrible experience those kids must’ve had inside the bathtub, because as far as she knows… baths are easily one of the greatest, most relaxing and pleasurable things in history. 

And she’s not biased, mind you. The fact that she’s currently submerged in fragrant warm water up to her neck, enveloped by a sea of bubbles and receiving a hair wash from her twin has nothing to do with her own personal opinion. 

Nothing at all.

The bathroom itself is leagues above the ones they had back at the orphanage, almost twice as big and far more clean. So much that the tiles from the walls reflect the light that comes through the window, making the room even brighter. The washbasin and mirror are bigger too, but since they are supposed to be used by two grown-ups at the same time, it's understandable.

Just like Yang’s wife had told them, they’d picked up a towel —one was already big enough for the two of them— from the closet and left it hanging on the rail next to the tub. It smells like herbs or flowers of some kind. She doesn’t know which ones, but she’s fallen in love with them anyway.

All in all, she’s having the time of her life.

Damon softly hums to himself —a tune she can’t quite recognize— while he massages her head trying to get rid of six months worth of accumulated filth. Despite having been so long since the last time they bathed together, she’s glad he still remembers how to properly tend to her hair. She just hopes she remembers how to do his as well when his turn comes.

“How does it feel?” Damon asks as he weaves his fingers through her locks to better distribute the lather.

“Fuaaaahhh, it’s great…” she sighs in pure bliss. “It’s been so long, I almost forgot how amazing this feels…” Perhaps it’s the better shampoo, or maybe just the long wait, but it feels even better than she remembers.

Her brother chuckles lightly. “I really missed washing your hair like this, you know?” he then starts pressing and pulling a bit harder, “it’s… ugh, full of knots though...”

Phoebe doesn’t even flinch as he tries to undo the total mess that has become of her hair. She’s no stranger to pulling off some rebellious strands every now and then, so this is nothing in comparison. Once he’s satisfied with his task, he resumes his humming while tending to her scalp.

A few moments pass before he speaks up again, softer this time. “I told you we could trust Miss Yang,” he says, not in a ‘in your face’ kind of tone, but merely stating what his gut had told him from the beginning, “and her wife seems really nice too.”

Phoebe sinks her face a little deeper into the water to hide her pout. “Yeah, yeah, yeah... You were right and I was wrong, I admit it,” she acknowledges half-heartedly, raising her mouth over the surface to speak, “still, for a moment I thought she was gonna kick us out or something.”

“Nah, I don’t think she would’ve done that,” her brother retorts, ever the optimist.

“Poor woman, did you see her face? Can’t believe she just dropped the bomb like that,” Phoebe adds with a grimace. “It was awkward as heck.”

“Yeah, a lil’ bit... But it would’ve been worse if we were there while she explains it,” he reasons. “She’s probably telling her right now.”

“Yup,” she agrees, going back underwater.

“How long do you think they’ll let us stay?” Damon then asks with a worried tone.

Phoebe resurfaces again. “I don’t know. Didn’t she say a couple of days? I guess that’s two, three, four at best?” when he doesn’t respond, she adds, “so don’t get too comfortable, ok? You were the one that said we needed a rest, and that’s what this is.”

She can’t help but think that these couple of days are going to be over in a flash, and even though she’s already made peace with that fact, it’s still a pretty depressing thought... Moreover, she doesn’t want Damon to get too attached… the parting would be too much for him.

“T-That…” her twin stammers, and she can almost hear the disappointment in his voice, “that just means we have to enjoy it to the fullest, while it lasts!” he exclaims, unconsciously rubbing her head a little harder and stirring a lot of lather.

...

And, as you would expect, some of that lather found its way to her face.

“ARGGGGH, MY EYES!” she screams on top her lungs, eyes completely red and splashing water everywhere. “It burns, it burns, it burns!”

“Uwaah! S-Sorry, sorry!” Damon blurts in panic. “W-Wait, stay still! I’ll rinse them!”

“D-Dummy!”

  


* * *

  


“So the headmistress was ok with separating them just because they were faunus?” Blake asks her, eyes wide in astonishment and hand wavering over the silverware.

Today she’s wearing a black sleeveless kimono with golden trimming, a style —Yang learned some years ago— donned by the Belladonna family for generations, which explained why her mother also wore it most of the time. It really suits her, and not because it matches the color of her eyes and hair, but because it gives off a very… elegant aura.

“Yep, but I bet she was more interested in freeing up some beds,” Yang ventures in response by the kitchen counter, handling the frying pan. “You know, it costs more to keep two kids fed than one, that kind of crap. Them being faunus was just her excuse.”

Blake basically slams the silverware on the table, her steps growing harder as she paces around the kitchen. “That doesn't make it any less unfair."

Yang frowns. "I know."

They remain silent for a few seconds —Yang can guess her wife's thinking to herself— until Blake releases a heavy breath and continues settling the table. “And they’ve been living on the streets ever since they ran away?” she asks in a sour tone while putting the glasses on the dining table.

“Apparently, but I’m not sure for how long,” Yang responds, giving the pan a little shake to stir the vegetables.

Four dishes lay on the counter next to her, with a cooked steak and a generous amount of mashed potatoes on each one. Now all that’s left is to add a nice bunch of vegetables and the kids will go to bed with the best dinner they’d probably had in years, if not in their entire lives.

“What about their parents? They know anything about them?” her wife asks again, this time turning to look directly at her.

The vegetables start making sizzling sounds as the fat gets hotter, so Yang raises her voice a little bit to answer, “If they know something, they didn’t tell me. As far as I know, they don’t remember anything before the orphanage,” she shrugs, “they were probably too little.”

Blake clicks her tongue. “It’s awful. Despite everything we did, the challenges we overcame… And we still can’t do anything to keep these things from happening.”

Yang understands that feeling really well. “Yeah, turns out defeating the Queen-of-All-Evil doesn’t mean getting rid of all that’s wrong with the world,” she spits, and the complete lack of irony in that statement amazes her.

They faced off against the most dangerous foe to ever threaten mankind and won. A witch hell-bent on wiping every living being from the face of Remnant and leave the world even more broken than it already was. Yet they’d managed to win. By playing all their cards in one last, desperate gamble, they’d achieved the unachievable. At the time they felt like they were creating a new era for all of Remnant, but as time passed and the world kept on turning, that childish delusion faded and gave way to a disappointing reality.

So yeah, they were able to ruin the plans of global extermination of a malevolent immortal sorcerer, yet they kept losing to mankind’s selfishness and shitty nature.

Fortunately, if Remnant has one redeeming quality, it’s that there are far more people actually trying to fix the world than just looking out for themselves.

And Blake is one such person.

“But, well... Now that the Grimm are just a temporary trouble, we can finally focus on fixing our own problems,” she continues, her voice brightening up a little bit as she glances back to give a meaningful look to her wife, “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing all this time?”

Blake doesn’t look particularly convinced however, judging by the way her ears drop. She circles the table and sits down, eyes downcast. “I wish I could do more…”

Yang drops the vegetables on each plate, giving preferential treatment to the kids by making their rations slightly bigger, and takes the dishes to the table. On her way, she gives her partner a sympathetic look. “One step at a time, Blake…”

But her gaze still lingers on the table...

She hasn’t changed at all in these few years. She’s gotten braver, wiser, more outspoken —not by choice though—, but she still tries to shoulder the weight of the world by herself. Like she’s the sole responsible for every injustice that goes unpunished.

Change is a slow process... She’d told her, her parents had told her, her friends had told her. And there are already signs of it happening, but she prefers to focus on her mistakes rather than her accomplishments. That’s Blake Belladonna to you...

Yang is about to press further, to try and make her wife realize that she _is_ making a difference, but at that very moment the kitchen door opens, interrupting her train of thought.

Damon let’s himself into the room with a hop, standing proudly on his tiptoes and spreading his arms. “We’re done!”

Phoebe is not far behind, but she doesn’t look as excited. The girl glares at her brother —in a way that reminds Yang of how Ruby looked at her whenever she took the cookie jar away— and rubs her eyes. She doesn’t know the details, but she can guess what happened thanks to all that ruckus from before.

Ah, sibling fights… How much she missed them.

However, all of this quickly leaves her mind as she takes an amused look at the twins’ new garments. Blake does as well, and her eyes brighten up almost instantly.

They’re both wearing a couple of Yang’s old white shirts —which she used to wear for special occasions—, and nothing else. And they don’t really need to, because the buttoned shirts reach down to their knees and their hands barely make it out of the sleeves, so it almost looks like they’re wearing bathrobes.

Yang can’t help herself and stifles a laugh through her teeth. “Hey, wait a minute!” she puts the dishes on the table and approaches the kids, grinning, “You mean there were two cute kids under all that dirt this whole time?!” and then she immediately starts ruffling their hair. Damon giggles and leans into her hand, fully accepting the pampering —which is a plus on her book—, while Phoebe grumbles and tries to get away, pouting adorably.

She just wants to tease them, but they certainly look a lot better now that they’re clean. The dirt and grease that covered their cheeks is now completely gone, replaced by a healthy flush courtesy of a well-deserved bath. 

Knowing where they were just a couple of hours ago… it really warms her heart to see them like this.

“Sorry about the clothes, but we have nothing your size,” Blake comments with a frown.

“It’s okay, they smell really nice,” Phoebe says while sniffing the sleeves of her shirt as Yang steps back to the counter, “and they’re clean!”

“And roomy!” Damon adds with a wave of his sleeves for good emphasis.

Blake seems to be in better spirits, because she chuckles in a way that makes Yang’s heart flutter. “Glad to hear it!”

In retrospective, Blake has never been too crazy about kids like Weiss or her (the two of them basically turned into helpless puddles at the sight of children). Her wife is more similar to Ruby in that regard, but even Ruby falls head over heels for small animals. The faunus on the other hand was completely immune to any kind of adorable little creature, so watching this small —and rare— interaction makes Yang squeal on the inside.

“Now come on and take a seat before dinner gets cold,” Blake beckons them to the chairs in front of her.

“That’s right! Dig in!” Yang smiles, taking the other two dishes to her and Blake’s side.

  


* * *

  


As they both sit down in front of the couple, Damon can only think about how lucky they are. First a bath they could’ve only experienced in their dreams (his twin maybe not so much…) and now dinner, real dinner! Not cheap sandwiches bought from a cafeteria, not leftovers rummaged from fast food restaurants, but food that had been cooked for them. Like, deliberately made for them, and no one else.

It may sound stupid, but to them it means a great deal.

However, neither he nor his sister are mentally prepared for the absurd amount of food awaiting on their plates. Seriously, that slice of grilled meat is the size of his forearm!

They’re seemingly stuck staring dumb-founded at their dinner for quite a while, because Miss Blake asks them in a worried tone, “Is something wrong?”

“Is this for real...?” Damon whispers stupefied, pinching his own arm for good measure.

Phoebe looks up wide-eyed and raises her plate with both hands, almost worshipping it. “We can eat _all_ of this?!”

Miss Yang sits down at her wife’s side, having returned with a beer from the fridge, and arches an eyebrow with a funny smile. “Of course! Why couldn’t you?”

...

Half a second later both kids are demolishing their plates, completely drown in a ravenous trance. Damon grabs the piece of meat —he doesn’t even know what animal it is, but its smell makes him drool— and rips it in half in one bite, his razor sharp teeth making quick work of the tender flesh. Phoebe, for her part, starts stuffing her mouth with handfuls of mashed potatoes one after another.

“Woah, woah, woah! Slow down!” Miss Yang exclaims in shock. “I get that you’re hungry, but at least use a fork and knife.”

They manage to slow down a little bit and look back at the women with mouths full and cheeks smeared with food. 

The black-haired faunus gives them a disapproving look. “If you eat like that you’ll get a stomachache,” then her features soften once more, “don’t worry, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

Phoebe swallows, then clears her throat awkwardly while looking at her own untouched steak. “It’s just… we’ve never used a knife before.”

Damon stares at the half-nibbled peace of meat in his hand and feels a sudden wave of embarrassment. “S-Sorry…” he whispers, blushing and putting the meat back on the plate.

Back in the orphanage they never really had to cut anything with a knife. All their rations were previously cut by the kitchen staff before serving, so they’ve never so much as touched one. Most of the food they served only required forks, spoons —not very often— and their bare hands anyway.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Miss Blake comforts them, “kids don’t really start using knives until they get a bit older, but we...”

“We didn’t want to assume anything,” her wife finishes for her, “here, let me.”

The blonde woman grabs Damon’s plate and cuts down what’s left of his steak, while Miss Blake does the same for his twin. Once their food is nicely cut and mixed with the vegetables they just have to use the forks to resume dinner, a little bit slower this time… although not without great effort.

They eat in silence for quite a while after that. It’s a bit awkward, and Damon can see in his twin and Miss Blake’s faces that they’re not quite as relaxed as they should.

Phoebe has never been the most socially skilled of the two. She’s confident enough to snap at strangers out of distrust or because of her overprotective nature —Damon knows he can be naive at times—, but when it comes down to positive interactions, she’s out of her element. And Miss Blake seems to be having the same struggle, since her eyes are glued to her own plate. He finds it kind of endearing, actually. Like an older, less snappy version of his sister.

Miss Yang, on the other hand, looks like is waiting for a chance to make some light talk, glancing between the three of them while she plays with her mashed potatoes. When Damon locks eyes with her, the woman perks up expectantly.

He’s not about to leave her hanging, and this may help the more awkward pair to open up.

“So,” he pauses to swallow the food in his mouth, “you’re a real Huntress, Miss Yang?”

Puffing out her chest, the woman immediately rises to the occasion. “You bet, kiddo! I’ve been kicking Grimm left and right long before you were even born! And I don’t mean to brag or anything, but you’re talking to two Vesper March veterans,” she claims, sticking up her nose in the air.

Miss Blake flinches at that comment, grimacing. “Yang, please… don’t start with the war stories.”

“Hey, he asked me,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

Damon is more than familiar with the name, and judging by Phoebe’s open mouth, she remembers it as well. You can’t just forget the biggest story of heroes and monsters of all time, especially when you’ve had to study it in class over and over.

According to their teacher back at the orphanage, the Grimm War was an event that changed the shape of the world more than any other conflict in the history of Remnant. A war that started with the Fall of Vale and ended a few years later —he can’t remember how many— with the defeat of the Grimm Queen at the very core of her domain.

The most significant part of the war was the struggle to reach her lair. A hellish campaign that lasted for six months, during which the combined forces of Atlas and Mistral, supported by a contingent of Huntsmen and Huntresses from all over the world, traveled like a spear to the heart of the Grimmlands in search of vengeance and glory.

A campaign referred to by its participants as the Vesper March.

Why? He doesn’t know. Their teacher never really expanded on that part of the war, but it sounds cool nevertheless.

“You fought in the war?” Phoebe asks, excitement building up in her voice, and getting a nod from the blonde woman in response. “How was it?! Lots of Grimm?! How did they look?!”

Miss Yang leans towards her, infected by the girl’s eagerness. “It was—!”

But she gets elbowed in the side by her wife, who looks at her with a furrowed brow before turning back to the kids. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s a story suited for children. Trust me, even some grown-ups get nightmares just by remembering the Vesper March. It’s _not_ something to remember fondly,” she hisses that last piece while glaring daggers at Miss Yang, who shrinks a little in shame.

N-Nightmares...? It was _that_ bad?

“Yeah… you’re probably right,” the blonde agrees, picking up her fork once again. “Sorry kids.”

Phoebe blows a raspberry, frowning. “Oh c’mon, now I want to know more!”

“S-So! If you fought in the war, does that mean you're a Huntress too, Miss Blake?!” Damon asks to change the subject in order to keep the conversation going, and not because he’s afraid of what he might hear.

Definitely not because he is afraid or anything.

His sisters rolls her eyes and whispers a “wimp” that goes unnoticed.

The faunus woman seems to appreciate the change though, because she smiles again. “I was at the time, but I retired shortly after the war ended to focus on the FIS.”

Huh, now that’s a name he’s not familiar with.

“The what?” he wonders, arching a brow.

“Ohhh, I knew I’d seen your face somewhere!” Phoebe suddenly exclaims, slamming a hand on the table, “you’re that _fishy_ lady that’s always talking about faunus stuff and whatnots on TV!”

At the woman’s side, Miss Yang nearly chokes on her beer.

Miss Blake, for her part, looks like she’s just been slapped across the face. “F-Fishy?!”

“Who?” Damon intrudes, honestly confused.

“You know, that woman in the news,” Phoebe explains, turning to look at him, “the one from that ‘fish’ thing that’s always talking in public about people mistreating faunus, racism, and all that. It’s right before _Young Huntsmen League_ , remember?”

That’s a TV cartoon they used to watch along with their friends right after lunch. Together with books and toys, it was their biggest source of entertainment, although the headmistress limited the time they could spend watching TV to two hours a day, so they always spent some of that time for that show. It was awesome.

“Ahhhhhh, you’re right! That’s really you!” Damons shouts, all excited. “So wait a minute, does that mean you’re famous?!”

She clears her throat and tries to compose herself, despite her burning cheeks and Miss Yang’s sudden laughing fit. “W-Well… I guess you can say that a lot of people know who I am, yeah. But that’s all there is to it, I’m not asked for autographs, followed by cameras or anything like that if that’s what you’re asking.”

That’s a shame. Being so famous that people follow you everywhere to get your autograph has to be kind of cool. After being ignored by everyone for so long, Damon thinks that it must feel nice to be the center of all the attention.

“I see... But why 'fish'?”

“Not fish, FIS,” the woman kindly corrects, lifting a finger, “it’s an acronym.”

Silly Miss Blake, that’s not even a word. “A crown-in?”

“No, the name is Faunus Integration Syndicate, but we pick up the starting letters, see?” she explains, lifting three fingers now, “F-I-S.”

“Ohhhh, I get it, I get it. And what do you do there?” he asks, half curious and half wanting to keep the conversation flowing.

“It’s... complicated. Let’s see,” she stops to collect her thoughts and take a bite from her vegetables, “you could say that I’m in charge of the group of people that’s trying to help our kind have an easier time living between humans.” 

“How?” his twin wonders out loud.

“Well, we help them find jobs in places where it could be hard for them to find on their own, offer them protection if they’re being harassed or bullied… It’s… It’s all paperwork and grown-ups stuff, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find it boring,” she arguments, smiling apologetically.

“Kind of,” Phoebe agrees, to which Damon gives her a kick under the table, then she immediately adds, “b-but it’s still a pretty important job, so… uh, so I hope you do your best for our sake!”

The faunus woman watches with an amused smile, seemingly not offended at all by his sister’s attitude. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”

Phoebe nods, her cheeks getting the faintest tinge of pink, and resumes her eating while Miss Blake does the same, visibly more relaxed. Neither of them avoids eye contact now, and the slight awkwardness that floated in the air a few minutes ago is gone, replaced by a comfortable silence.

Damon catches Miss Yang looking at him, and she gives him a very subtle thumbs up and a conspiratorial wink without the others noticing. He smiles whole-heartedly in return, proud of himself for helping to break the ice, and they too go back to eating.

Dinner goes on normally, but it’s not long —Damon realizes, to his delight— before they’re engaged in friendly talk once more.


	4. Ep I: Chapter 4

Even after they finish cleaning their plates, Phoebe, her twin and their unexpected hosts keep talking for a while.

The two women are surprisingly kind, more than she had initially thought. They may even be the kindest grown-ups she’s met in her entire life. Blake is quiet and a lil’ bit uptight, but she’s also gentle and soft spoken, which makes her easily likeable. In comparison, Yang is loud and more ‘cheerful’ —she doesn’t know if that is the right word—, and she actually reminds her a lot of her brother. Like an older, unrestrained version of Damon.

She isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not though…

Before they even noticed, night had already settled in and the faint orange light that seeped through the kitchen window had faded as the four kept on chatting. 

The twins managed to get a few battle stories out of the couple, with Blake making sure they were ‘kid-friendly’ beforehand. The faunus told them of one particular encounter during her Huntress years, when she protected an entire ship from a Sea Feilong, a giant dragon-like Grimm that suddenly attacked during the trip.

The idea of a person fighting a giant monster and winning is so bizarre that she can’t even imagine it. She’s seen the protagonists of _Young Huntsmen League_ doing that kind of crazy stuff, but that’s just a cartoon! She had no idea real Huntsmen could actually pull that off!

Then Yang had told them about how she got her burn scars, which was a surprise since neither of the twins had wanted to bring up the whole thing about her arms in the first place. Even Phoebe understands that there are some lines you don’t cross, especially with someone that’s just invited you into their home.

Apparently, it had been on a pretty recent mission. When she and her team were scorting a group of researchers —from a facility some weird-named big company had established deep within the Grimmlands— to an underground cave to make some… well, some research. They’d been ambushed by a monster, an unknown species of Grimm they’d never faced before that somehow managed to overwhelm five veteran Huntsmen armed to the teeth. 

With her teammates nearly exhausted and her robot arm reduced to scraps, she resorted to a desperate plan. She had one of her comrades boost her Semblance to dangerous levels, until she basically became a walking ball of flames. Gathering all that blazing energy in her remaining arm, she delivered the ‘mother-of-all-punches’, blasting the creature’s head out of existence. She released such a devastating amount of power, that not even her Aura could withstand it. The burning flames she’d summoned to kill the Grimm ended up leaving her physically scarred for life.

‘My secret move, the Yangbang!’ she’d called it, while flexing her muscles in a victory pose.

Although the story had been so incredibly intense that the kids were left on the edge of their seats with their mouths agape, the woman still managed to get a chuckle out of them. It was incredible how she could joke around with something so terrible like that… 

Her wife called her out for the awful nickname, shoving her lightly on the shoulder, but it was evident she was just trying to hide her own amusement. 

After seeing how comfortable the blonde was about her scars, the twins showered her with more questions, including how she lost her right arm. In response, Yang simply declared that it was ‘a secret’, shrugging with a cheeky smirk. That pissed the hell out of Phoebe more than she wants to admit, and even Damon frowned at the blonde’s teasing, but neither of them pressed any further.

Despite their disappointment, the twins kept asking for more stories. They weren’t going to have a better chance to get such amazing tales from a couple of veteran Huntresses anyway...

It wasn’t until her brother started yawning that the two women realized what time it was. After helping the couple clear the table —and bidding goodnight to the faunus—, Yang took them upstairs while Blake stayed behind to wash the dishes. The blonde guided them through the only corridor on the second floor, past the bathroom they’d used a couple of hours earlier, until they came to a set of two doors, one at each side. They went into the one on the right, and for the ‘who-knows-how-many’-th time that day, the kids were left speechless.

The ‘guest room’, which Yang added hadn’t yet fulfilled its purpose even once since they moved into the home, is just about the size of the quarters they used at the orphanage to house the two of them along with eight other kids. The lack of wardrobes or any other large furniture probably adds to the general ‘big-ness’ of the room. There are only two adult-sized beds at each side of the room and a small drawer between them, right under the window. 

Phoebe and Damon meekly enter the room and start touching one of the beds. The sheets are cool, and the mattress is soft yet also firm enough to not sink under their weight. Damon leans half his body on it and rubs his cheeks against the mattress, sighing dreamily. Phoebe giggles at him, but can’t contain her own eagerness. The cotton sheets feel fresh under her palms as she draws small circles with both hands all over the edge of the bed.

“Been a while since you’ve slept in one of these, huh?” Yang asks, standing with her arms crossed in the middle of the bedroom.

“We spent the night at a motel last week, actually,” Damon responds without bothering to lift his head from the bed. “But that was nothing... like... this... ” he drawls while trying to contain a yawn.

“Okay kids, enough chit-chat. Time to hit the hay,” the blonde insists, coming closer to pull down the sheets of both beds. “We’ve kept you up late enough.”

Phoebe lets out a yawn of her own and —seeing as Damon has no intention of letting go of the bed on the left— groggily climbs up the bed on the right. It’s a little bit cold under the sheets, but she’s sure that a few wiggles against the mattress will warm it up soon. It’s always like that when sleeping on a bed. The pillow’s also a bit rigid at first, but it immediately reshapes to accommodate her head, almost like she’s leaning on a cloud.

Yang takes a moment to properly tuck them in, a gesture that once again shows… well, a little more dedication than what would be expected from someone that’s merely invited them into their home, but neither of the twins say anything. Damon even seems elated by it, smiling in a way that worries her. She’ll need to have another talk with him...

Maybe that’s just the woman’s nature, or perhaps it’s the fact that she was abandoned as well that makes her empathize with them, but it’s making a mess of her brother’s feelings… and hers as well.

“How is it? Comfortable?” Yang asks them while leaning against the doorframe.

“Very, thank you,” Damon says, wiggling under the sheets just like she’s planning to do.

“Good to hear,” she smiles and puts a hand over the light switch. “You know where the bathroom is, but if you need anything else during the night, our room is just across the hall, okay?”

Phoebe nods. “Okay, thanks Yang.”

She really hopes it doesn’t come to that. Even if the blonde really means it —and the girl really thinks she does—, waking up someone just to ask for a glass of water it’s not a very kind thing to do.

“Goodnight,” Yang gives them a wink before turning off the lights and closing the door behind her.

The room is left dimly illuminated by the faint moonlight slipping through the window. In another situation, Phoebe might’ve stood up to look outside —they barely saw anything of the village when they arrived, other than how incredibly small it was— but she feels incredibly tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Today has really been a roller-coaster of emotions, distrust, awkwardness, excitement, relief... Right now she just wants to close her eyes and fall asleep.

...

But as the minutes pass, she realizes that she can’t.

It should’ve been easy. She’s the comfiest she’s ever been in her entire life, and the only thing she hears is the faint sound of voices downstairs, a far cry from the noises of Mistral’s suburbs. And yet, no matter how much she tries, she can’t sleep.

Something’s missing.

Phoebe opens her eyes after a while, and frowns at the ceiling. Shifting so she’s now lying on her side, she stares at her brother’s bed on the other side of the room. A little benefit from being a faunus is that she can tell he’s awake too. Despite the low light, she can see him staring back at her clearly as day.

Of course, he can tell she’s awake as well. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” she blurts, “you?”

“Uh-uh.”

Phoebe thinks he might feel the same as her, but she isn’t quite sure, so she mumbles, “The bed is awesome and all, but…”

“Something’s missing,” he finishes with an awkward smile, and it’s not the expression he uses but the longing in his eyes that confirms her suspicions and makes her spring into action.

She kicks off the sheets and jumps out of the bed in one fluid motion. The floor feels ice cold against her bare feet, causing her to shudder, so she skips on her tiptoes to the other side of the room in a hurry. Not even waiting for permission, Phoebe climbs up the mattress and joins her twin under the sheets, who wordlessly moves a little to make room for her.

It’s Damon who dozes off first a few minutes later, and his evened breathing sounds the same as always, lulling her into a comfortable sleep soon after.

  


* * *

  


By the time her wife returns, Blake’s already washed the dishes —not like there was much to wash anyway— and prepared them both a cup of tea and a coffee. She stands in the middle of the living room, holding a steaming cup on each hand, and smiles as Yang reaches the bottom of the stairs and takes the coffee from her.

“Thanks,” the blonde says warmly.

The two of them sit at the table to enjoy their drinks together, something they usually do after dinner and has become a bit of a habit over the years. Blake’s not very fond of the smell of coffee, especially the intense brand that Yang started to favour some years ago, but at least the aroma of her own tea offers some protection. She simply lifts the teacup to her face and sighs contentedly as the fragrance of jasmine fills her nostrils.

She hears Yang at her side taking a temptative sip and then sighing herself, before she whispers, “They’re really good kids.”

Blake finds herself nodding without even noticing, “Yeah… they are.”

Honestly, she’s surprised by how much she enjoyed dinner with them. It had been awkward at first, since they basically knew nothing of each other and Blake’s just not as experienced with kids as her wife, but once they got over that barrier, she found out… that she liked them. Phoebe was bold and honest, brutally so, but there was also a certain shyness about her, like she was afraid to let down her guard, not unlike Blake herself when she was younger. Damon on the other side was sunny, sweet and innocent, and —like Yang— much easier to talk to, although he wasn’t ‘explosively outgoing’ like the blonde, to her satisfaction. If only her wife had shown that gentle candor during their first weeks at Beacon, perhaps Blake would’ve opened up to her much sooner.

She likes them, there’s no mistaking it, and that’s exactly what frightens her... There’s something that’s been nagging at Blake’s mind ever since Yang first invited the twins into their house. A hunch about the reason her wife decided to make such an offer, knowing full well that when all is said and done they’d just be back where they began. 

After spending years together with the blonde, going to hell and back with her, loving her, and seeing her at her strongest and at her most vulnerable, she’s pretty confident when she says that she knows her better than anyone else. So calling this feeling a ‘hunch’ might be an understatement…

No, the faunus knows exactly what drove her wife to act the way she did.

…

…

...

Putting down her teacup, Blake takes a deep breath and asks in a quiet tone, “You didn’t invite them just to let them stay ‘a couple of days’, did you?”

Yang’s hand freezes mid-air, still holding her cup, and takes a few seconds to look Blake in the eyes. Her expression is complicated, but the faunus sees right through it.

She sighs. “I thought we already talked about this, Yang…”

“And w—?!” the blonde almost shouts, but bites her lip at the last second and lowers her voice, “and why not? It’s not like they have anywhere else to go, and even if we take them back to the orphanage they’ll just run away again. Could you live with that?”

The accusation takes her by surprise, making her recoil. “W-What? Of course not! You think I’d be okay with them going back to the streets?”

“Then?” Yang asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Whether they find a new home or not is not the issue here, Yang. _Trust me_ ,” she declares in a serious tone, “those kids aren’t getting out of this house without a new family.”

“Oh, and how do you plan to find them one, huh? Going door to door like a salesperson all over Remnant? ‘Hey, take a look at this cute kid! You like it? Well guess what? Buy now and you’ll receive the second one completely free!’” she mocks.

Blake’s not offended, she understands exactly how Yang feels, but she needs to make her see reason. “No, I’ll talk with Ilia.” 

As soon as she hears it, Yang’s face falls, and something inside Blake breaks watching the hope fading from her wife’s eyes.

Ilia wasn’t just a member of the management committee, she was the head manager of the personnel department, meaning she could get in contact with virtually every single employee of the FIS all over the world. Hundreds, if not thousands of people.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to find them a new home in no time. A good family that will love them and care for them, the way they deserve,” she tries to comfort her, putting a hand on her left shoulder. She’s aware that Yang can barely feel through her scarred skin, but she does it anyway. “In this case... them being faunus will probably even speed things up.”

Her wife says nothing and just lowers her head. Her eyes are hidden behind her bangs, but Blake can tell by the way she bites her lower lip that this is not what she expected, much less what she wanted.

“Why can’t that family be us?” Yang finally begs after a few seconds, her voice lower than a murmur.

The faunus recalls their last discussion on the matter, and gives her the same honest answer. “I told you, I just… don’t think I’m ready for that responsibility.”

At this the blonde looks up again, but this time her eyes are hard. “So you’re fine being the president of one of the most important organizations in the whole freaking world, but you’re not ready for _that_ responsibility?”

Blake furrows her brows. “Politics are one thing, Yang. Raising a child is something entirely different.”

“Right, then your problem is that you don’t think we can be good parents,” Yang retorts.

“It’s not that. I think you’ll make a great mom someday, I really do,” she confesses, smiling sincerely. “But I just… I don’t think we’re ready for that, not yet.”

The blonde finally snaps, turning completely to face her. “Are we ever ready for the things that happen to us, Blake?! I sure as hell wasn’t ready to lose an arm. You weren’t ready to step up and lead the White Fang when the group was falling into chaos. We…” she makes a pause, grimacing at the old memory, “we weren’t ready for Adam... And none of us were ready to risk our lives facing a monster we had absolutely zero chance of defeating, and basically save the whole fucking world.” 

Blake sits there in silence, facing her wife’s outburst with a desolate expression.

“Never in our lives have we been ready for any of the crap that fate decided to throw at our faces,” she spits in anger, then lifts her robot arm to point at the ceiling, “those kids upstairs weren’t ready to be abandoned, neither for the idea of being separated from each other, and they surely weren’t ready to throw everything away to live on the streets surviving on scraps, but they still did it. You know why?”

The faunus doesn’t know how to answer, she can only shake her head.

“Because they believed it was _worth it_.”

Just like they did years ago…

Sacrifice their teenage years, stand against impossible odds, take all that burden upon themselves… They didn’t accept it just because it was the right thing to do, but because they’d rather fight tooth and nail for what they believed in than just do nothing. They weren’t ready for any of it, but it was worth it, every second of it.

Yang takes her hands in hers, beckoning Blake to look back at her. And for a moment, the faunus gets lost in her beautiful lilac eyes. “We may never be ready for something like this, Blake... But we’ve been taking crazy chances for years, and in the end it always works out. Are we really going to stop now of all times?”

It’s hard to maintain eye contact with Yang when she has that much resolve. It’s like trying to fight against the tides. Eventually you’ll stumble and fall. “I-I…”

The blonde insists, cradling her hands. “Blake, look at me,” she does against her common sense. Yang gets closer, a begging —and still hopeful— look in her eyes. “I really believe I’ve met these kids for a reason, but I want— no, I _need_ your support. This can’t work out without you, please...”

Her heart screams at her to give in, to say yes, hug her wife and support her until the end.

A part of her already knows that if they adopt the kids, they’ll grow on her in no time. She _already_ has a soft spot for the twins and she’s known them for less than a few hours... But that’s exactly why she needs to be the voice of reason, because she wants what’s best for them. Yang has a heart as big as the world. She’s the single most kind and selfless person Blake has ever met, and she wouldn’t have her any other way, but more often than not she lets her feelings get the best of her.

And this time, she’s making a mistake.

“You’re not thinking straight, Yang…” Blake cautions, trying to be as delicate as she can.

Yang’s brow furrows ever so slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.

The faunus starts caressing her wife’s left hand. “What they’ve been through is terrible. And maybe, since you went through something so similar with your mother, you kind of feel responsible for them and—”

She’s cut short as Yang breaks free from her grasp and stands up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. Blake flinches by the sudden movement and looks up to her wife, confused.

Her lovely lilac eyes are now flashing a dangerous shade of red, like a fire being ignited on a pyre. When she speaks, her tone is sharp and dangerous. “I’m _not_ using them as some sort of band aid, Blake.”

They’ve had their fair share of arguments and fights ever since they officially became a couple, some over trifling matters, others over delicate misunderstandings… But very few times —she can count them with one hand— had Blake managed to upset her to the point where her Semblance would actually kick in instinctively.

She thinks Blake has just accused her of being selfish, as if she cared more for her own emotional wound being mended by the good action rather than for the kids themselves. 

“N-No! That’s not what I meant,” Blake immediately clarifies, reaching out to take her left hand again. She doesn’t pull away, to her relief. “But you sympathize with them, and that is clouding your judgement.”

The red fades to lilac again, but she’s still frowning. “What? Of course not!”

“Then think,” Blake holds her hand a little tighter, “what kind of life would they have with us? With you out on missions for who knows how long and me always busy with the FIS? Would we leave them with the neighbors or something when we’re both away? Do you really want to be that absent mother that never sees her children?”

Yang’s face contorts as her delusion is shattered by the blunt force of reality. Unable to counter her argument, she clenches her fists and grimaces, looking away. It’s not pleasant... and Blake actually has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking down along with her.

The faunus reaches out for her wife one last time. “I love you, Yang. And I promised I’d always be by your side no matter what, but I… I can’t support you on this. We can’t take this chance when there’s someone else’s future at stake,” she tries to caress the back of her balled fists, if only to try and make Yang look at her, but her gaze remains on the floor. “We must put our feelings aside, and do what’s best for them.”

Despite her effort, the blonde yanks her hand away without so much as saying a word and storms out of the room. Blake can only watch in silence as Yang goes upstairs, leaving her alone and miserable in the living room.


	5. Ep I: Chapter 5

Waking up is always a really stressful experience when you live on the streets.

Most people wake up pretty early in the morning to go to work, even when it’s still dark outside. It’s a daily occurence, and something Damon and his sister tried to get used to during the first few weeks into their new lives. They tried new places to set up their cardboards every few days, hoping those particular corners of the city would be relatively calmer during the early hours. But it was impossible. An hour or so before the break of dawn, the cold and silent streets of Mistral would stop being silent when the first early risers started their cars to begin their day, filling the city —or at least that part of the lower districts— with the sound of their engines.

At that point, the twins would wake up unwillingly and just lie under the cardboards until the sun rose and warmed the streets, trying to sleep for a few more hours —without success most of the time— until the crowds started to fill the sidewalks.

But not this time.

This time Damon wakes up to the gentle caress of the morning sunlight on his cheeks. He groggily opens his eyes and panics for a fraction of a second at the unfamiliar room before recalling everything that happened yesterday, then he sighs happily. Yang brought them to her house, they’re fine.

As he yawns while stretching, he feels Phoebe stirring at his side and soon enough her head pops out from under the sheets, looking back at him with half-lidded eyes.

He stifles a chuckle, covering his mischievous smile with his hand. “Some nice morning hair you got there, sis.”

Her long mane of raven hair is sticking out in every possible direction while somehow covering half of her face at the same time, something only good old Phoebe can manage. They usually don’t move much while sleeping, since their space is very limited, but now that they had room to spare it seems that her body had just let loose.

She groans and points an accusing finger at him. “And whose fault is that? You spent the whole night fooling around with it in your sleep,” she retorts, grabbing a handful of hair and trying to smooth it down.

Damon blinks. “Did I?”

“Yup, I’m sure you even drooled on it, _again_ ,” she smiles smugly, but still sleepy-eyed.

“Wha—?! I don’t do that!” he blurts out desperately, red in the face. “T-That just happened once!”

In his defense, it had been a pretty rough day, that one. One of those particular —luckily not very common— days when they didn’t manage to get a single coin. And no lien meant going to sleep with a grumbling stomach. So of course he had ended up dreaming about having a feast… That wasn’t his fault!

Phoebe sighs, all haughty. “Geez… Seriously bro, you’re like a lil’ baby. I know you like my hair and all that, but drooling all over it? That’s taking it too far.”

Oh.

Oh, he’s very awake now, and he’s ready for a fight. His sister might think she has the upper hand, but he too knows which buttons to push. Flashing a toothy grin, Damon shrugs. “Well, maybe if you didn’t snore like a piggy I wouldn’t fool around so much. Just sayin’.”

Her eyes widen, and the next thing he knows she’s baring her sharp teeth and jumping over him like an enraged animal. “T-Take that back, you jerk!” she shouts, blushing up to her ears. “I don’t snore!”

Damon gets shoved back down on the mattress, but he was already expecting it and tackles his twin by the waist, earning a yelp from the unsuspecting attacker and trying his best to tickle all of her weak spots. “Oink, oink, oink, oink!”

“N-No! S-Sto—ahahaha! Stop, that’s ch—ahahahaha, cheating! Stop iiit!” she cries out loud, laughing uncontrollably with her legs kicking in the air. 

“Then say I don’t drool!” he threatens, not giving her even a second’s rest.

“N-Never!” 

What started as a simple morning greeting quickly escalates to an all-out war as the two faunus jump and grapple all over the mattress, making a mess of the sheets. They couldn’t possibly do any of this while sleeping in an alley —they’d end up with bruises all over—, so when they had the chance to sleep on a bed, they almost always ended up playing around a little bit. And Damon absolutely loves seeing his twin relax and be herself, even if it’s only every now and then... 

“Phoebe? Damon?” calls a voice from the first floor, making them both freeze on the spot. He recognizes it as Blake’s. “Are you awake?”

Ouch, he didn’t even think about the two women when they started fighting... but at least it seems they’re already up. The sun must be already high in the sky, because the room is completely lit, so much so that it’s a wonder they didn’t wake up sooner.

Seeing as Phoebe is still catching her breath between chuckles, Damon calls back. “Yeah!”

“Well, get dressed and come down, okay? I’m making breakfast,” her voice sounds clearer, like she’s calling them from the bottom of the stairs.

“Okaaay, comiiing!” he shouts before turning back to his twin. “Truce?”

She’s still breathing heavily, but she manages to speak. “For now.”

The prospect of food is enough for the twins to sign a peace treaty. They nod to each other in honorable recognition and quickly disentangle to climb off the bed.

Damon didn’t notice before, but their clothes are perfectly folded on top of the other bed, so one of the women must have put them there while he and his sister were still asleep. They quickly change to their own clothes, which feel softer than ever and smell like heaven itself, and make a small visit to the bathroom to groom themselves. The lack of stools force them to hoist each other up to reach the water tap, turning washing their faces into a very tricky endeavour, but they’re able to figure it out without making a mess. Perhaps he should tell Yang or Blake about it, but he doesn’t want to come off as picky when they’ve already done so much for them… Anyway, once they give the good-to-go to one another, they go downstairs.

Going into the kitchen, they’re met by Blake setting up the table. Yesterday she was wearing an incredibly beautiful sleeveless kimono, giving her the appearance of a noble Mistralian princess, but today she’s wearing a simple beige elbow-length sleeved blouse. Although the other outfit was really pretty, Damon kind of likes her more in normal clothing. It’s not as imposing and makes her look far more approachable.

“Good morning!” he greets.

“Mornin’,” his sister follows.

Blake’s animal ears perk up and she smiles brightly upon seeing them. “Good morning, I hope you slept well. Although...” she gives them a knowing look, smirking in a way that emphasizes her cat-like features, “if you sleep for a solid eleven hours straight I’d say you’ve slept well enough.”

Phoebe gasps. “Eleven hours?! Are you kidding us?!”

“That’s the longest we’ve slept in… well, the longest we’ve slept, ever,” Damon adds, staring at the clock on the wall. It’s half past ten in the morning, no wonder his body feels so numb. 

Back at the orphanage, the staff would have them get up two hours earlier for their daily classes, not even on weekends would they let them sleep past ten. The headmistress and the rest always said that oversleeping was not a good trait to acquire. But he felt as good as new, so it couldn’t possibly be _that_ bad.

“Ugh, now I feel bad thinking about it... When did you two wake up?” Phoebe asks, looking slightly regretful.

Blake shakes her head nonchalantly. “A bit earlier, but we decided to let you sleep for as long as you needed. Come on, you’ve been living in terrible conditions up until now, you deserve a little pampering.”

Damon feels kind of bad too, like they’ve been impolite to them by oversleeping. “But—”

“No buts,” Blake shushes them, “now come, breakfast is ready.”

The woman gestures to the couple of bowls sitting on the table, next to a box of cereal. Damon and Phoebe look at each other and take a seat, right at the same spot where they sat last night during dinner. The warm milk filling the bowls looks appetizing enough, and even though Damon is not familiar with that brand of star-shaped cereal, he eagerly picks up the box.

“Why do you have that? I thought grown-ups had other stuff for breakfast, like coffee, eggs and all that,” Phoebe points out, eyeing the box with an arched brow.

The cat faunus giggles and shrugs tiredly. “Well... I do think Yang’s still a child at heart. She likes coffee a lot too, and even a brand most adults wouldn’t even consider drinking... She just doesn't like it for breakfast.”

“Huh, she’s the weirdest adult I’ve ever met,” his sister declares with a lopsided smirk.

Damon agrees on that, although he wouldn’t use that particular word. Weird doesn’t necessarily mean good, and up until now Yang has been nothing short of incredible and amazing. The fact that she’s also goofy and a bit boisterous only makes her more likable, in his opinion. If he had to use a word... he’d probably say quirky.

“You’ve seen nothing yet, trust me...” the woman responds, leaning her head on her hand. “Wait until she starts with the puns.”

“Oh, she’s one of _those_?”

Blake sighs. “She’s the very definition of _those_.”

“Yikes.”

“Where is she, by the way?” Damon wonders, taking a spoonful of milk and cereal.

Something passes through Blake’s eyes for a moment, but before he can register it it’s gone and replaced by an apologetic smile. “She’s gone to Mistral to do some chores. She really wanted to stay and show you around the village, but there was an appointment she couldn’t miss.”

“Oh…” he whispers, a bit deflated.

“But hey, look. I need to pay a visit to a friend on the other side of town. It’s not going to be too long because I have some work to do here on my computer, but you can come with me and take a look at the village on the way. If you want, of course. You can always stay here and play or watch TV, whatever you prefer,” she offers a bit awkwardly. 

Despite being less outspoken than her wife, it makes him happy to see that Blake doesn’t actively try to avoid spending time with them. She doesn’t have a reason to invite them to join her, but she’s willing to take them along just so they can have a good time, even if that means dealing with a couple of awkward kids. She’s timid, but she’s just as good-hearted as Yang.

Damon doesn’t have to think too much about it, he’s totally on board with the idea, but he still looks at Phoebe to see what she thinks. His sister looks back almost as if she’d read his thoughts, then gives a silent nod and swallows the cereal in her mouth before turning to the woman with a genuine smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The woman brightens up and leans back on her chair. “Great, we’ll leave after you’re done.”

They’re both eager to get some fresh air and take a look at a real village after spending their whole lives in one of the biggest cities in the world, so they don’t take too long to finish breakfast and follow Blake outside.

The first thing the twins noticed about Himawari village when they arrived with Yang was that the houses weren’t built next to each other in orderly rows, like most of what they’d seen on TV. They were built a good distance away from each other, and the only thing linking them together was the paved road that allowed vehicles to move freely between them. That was also the only thing keeping Himawari from being like an old fairytale town, since pretty much everything else were green meadows and small groves of trees as far as the eye could see. Looking down from the sky, it probably looked like all the houses were randomly sprinkled around the grasslands without giving too much thought about order or space efficiency.

If that’s how it really is for every village or if Himawari is an excepcion, Damon doesn’t know. And he doesn’t care either, the way the town blends with its natural surroundings has to be one of the most beautiful sceneries he’s ever seen.

Following Blake, they ignore the paved roads completely and traverse through the fields, where the short grass tickles their ankles. Instead of car horns and the constant fuss of people coming and going, the only sound that floats in the air is the country breeze whistling through the trees. Phoebe is barely looking ahead —Damon notices—, her eyes are closed and she holds her head high, letting her hair flow gently in the wind. If they’d grown up in a place like this, Damon could picture them going on daily walks like this just to enjoy the peaceful landscape.

After a few minutes of walking they arrive at what could only be described as Himawari’s town square, a stone-paved clearing surrounded by patches of trees and three lonely buildings. Two of them are on opposite sides of the square, one looking like a regular house and the other like a store but with a second floor. The latter has a shop window showcasing rows of baked bread, vegetables, fruits and some other daily needs, so Damon assumes it’s some ‘everything you need so you don’t have to make the whole trip to Mistral everyday’ kind of shop, like an entire market in one building, which is pretty convenient.

As they walk right next to the one that’s just a regular house, they notice an old lady sitting placidly on the porch and who seems to be combing her black and white furry tail while listening to an old radio. The moment the trio passes in front of the fence, the woman glares at them over her half glasses, focusing her keen eyes on the twins, or rather, on their clothes. They may be clean now, but they’re still ragged...

Damon shrinks under her gaze, feeling like a tiny little animal before a mighty eagle, but Phoebe takes his hand and shields him behind her, returning the old lady’s frown with one of her own.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mellivor,” Blake greets a little too loud, almost as if she wanted to divert the old woman’s attention from them, “how are you today?”

The old faunus turns to her and makes a scrunchy face, showing all of her wrinkles. “ _Belladonna_ ,” she says in a gruff and raspy voice, ignoring the question, “who are those kids?”

Her gaze falls on them once again and Damon starts to feel incredibly self-conscious about their situation, he doesn’t want Blake to get in bad terms with her neighbors because of them... However, the cat faunus shifts her feet ever so slightly to stand between them and the old lady, while still maintaining her gentle smile. “My cousins, they’re going to be spending a few days here with us. This is Pho—”

The old woman grunts, interrupting her. “Can’t their parents provide them with decent clothes so they don’t go around looking like paupers?” shes asks, making a sour expression. “I thought your family was wealthy, or is it just you, lass?”

Even Phoebe winces at that one… Both kids look up to Blake to gauge her reaction, but she remains calm, although her smile has banished and her ears are flat against her head. “I don’t think my family’s wealth is any of your business, _ma’am_ ,” she declares, her voice dripping with gentle poison. “So, if you would be so kind as to not importune them for as long as they’re here, I’d be incredibly grateful. We wouldn’t want to tarnish their memories of our lovely Himawari over a fashion disagreement, now would we?”

The old faunus holds Blake’s gaze for a couple of seconds before clicking her tongue. “Bah,” she spits, shaking her head dismissively and resuming the grooming of her tail, “you youngsters have no respect for proper appearances.”

Blake bows respectfully, “Have a good day, Mrs. Mellivor,” then she lightly taps the twins on their backs, “come on kids, let’s go.” 

They certainly don’t need to be told twice and quickly fall in line with the cat faunus, making their way to the other side of the town square and leaving the impolite old lady behind.

“Why did you lie to her? She was rude anyway,” Phoebe asks once they’re out of ear’s reach, still holding her brother’s hand.

Blake sighs long and tiredly. “She’s just a lonely and pretentious woman with no friends and too much free time, so she spends all of it prying in everyone else’s lives and making sure they know how much she disapproves of their ‘life choices’. The truth would’ve been a _lot_ worse, and I don’t want her to give you a hard time while you’re here.”

Phoebe chuckles, arching a brow. “Sounds like you know it all too well.”

“Oh, I do! She’s always telling me how I should do _my_ job,” Blake groans, making a grimace. “Just because she’s a faunus doesn’t give her the right to belittle all that I’ve been trying to do for our kind, ugh... And it doesn’t matter how much I try to be nice to her, she’s never been kind or polite, not even once since we moved here.”

“That’s hard…”

“I feel kinda sorry for her…” Damon shily adds.

“For her?!” Phoebe snaps, piercing him with blue wide eyes.

“I mean… Everyone would be grumpy if they were lonely, don’t you think?”

Blake smiles sadly at him, dropping her ears. “Maybe, but it’s not easy to be her friend when she’s always so disrespectful...”

Damon frowns, looking back one last time. “I guess…”

Even so, the boy pictures the old woman just sitting on her porch all day and having dinner alone, with only the old radio or the TV for company, and he can’t help but feel sorry for her. That doesn’t give her the right to snap at her neighbors or meddle in their lives, but it’s still sad. Isn’t she married? Does she have kids? Do they visit her? He’s curious, but he decides to leave it at that and not bother Blake with questions. It’s evident that they’re not on good terms, and he doesn’t want to sour the mood even more.

The third building surrounding the town square —the one they’re about to pass by— is almost twice as big as Blake’s house and has a signboard that reads ‘ _the Maiden who fell / in love with the Sun_ ’, with both capitals letters made of golden metal and a sunflower dividing the sentence in two. The front windows show a wide room with several tables and a counter at the far side with a man chatting amicably with a couple of customers.

“What’s this?” Phoebe wonders out loud, standing on her tiptoes in front of the window to get a better a look at the inside. “A restaurant?”

“Not exactly. It’s an inn, you know what that is?” the cat faunus asks back, cocking her head.

“Oh, I know! It’s like a bar and a hotel all in one, right?" Damon chims in excitedly, stepping in front of her. “Adventurers can eat and drink there, but they can also rent a room to pass the night before they continue their quest.”

Blake lifts a brow, seemingly amused. “Adventurers?”

“Yup, like the ones from the stories!” Phoebe exclaims, joining them once again. “In every adventure, the heroes always stop at an inn to regain their strength and prepare for the final battle.”

Damon nods vigorously. “Yeah, yeah! And they always throw a big party where everyone sings and has fun with each other!”

The woman can’t help but chuckle, infected by their enthusiasm. “Well, this one’s certainly not _that_ glamorous, I’m afraid. Since Himawari is such a small village, this is basically the only place where people can gather and spend time together. It’s simple and modest, but it has its charm,” she assures them with merriment in her voice.

‘Simple and modest’ seems just like the kind of place that Blake would appreciate, judging by her personality. At first he took her for an introvert, someone who prefers to chill by herself instead of interacting with other people, but if she enjoys spending time with her neighbors then that’s clearly not the case. Or perhaps she’s simply a bit more complex than that? 

“We have to come at least once, to see for ourselves,” Phoebe comments, taping her brother on the side.

“Definitely!”

“Alright kids, let’s go. We’re almost there,” Blake announces, urging them to resume their walk. They nod and follow her, leaving the town square behind and venturing once again into the green meadows. 

After spending another good five minutes crossing the fields, they eventually get a glimpse of a house on top of a small hill. It doesn’t seem particularly different from the rest at first sight, but as soon as they reach the top Damon realizes that it’s much more than just a house. There’s a huge clearing completely enclosed by a fence at one side of it, with huge piles of stacked hay in the corner and a second building in-between that Damon recognizes thanks to his old class books as a… How was it? A barn?

“It’s a farm!” he concludes, glancing everywhere in search of animals.

Phoebe stands next to him in a hurry and points right in front of them. “There, look! Sheep!”

He follows her finger and sees them in the distance, beyond the house. Small fluffy white dots spreaded across the fields! Oh gods, he wants to touch them!

“Aster is already at it, huh? There’s really no rest for a farmer...” Blake comments to herself, approaching the house entrance.

The kids snap out of their excitement and quickly stand next to the woman as she rings the doorbell. Before she even removes the hand from the door, a man’s voice calls from the barn. “I’m with the cows! Just a second!”

Blake doesn’t wait and walks up to the barn herself, with the twins following in tow. “Good morning, Bas! Can we come in?” she shouts in front of the door.

“Good morn— wait, Blake?”

“Yup!”

There’s a bit of a ruckus coming from inside, with some unintelligible human grunts and cows mooing, but the door suddenly opens, revealing a tall and robust-looking man —who seems to be in his early forties— with short chestnut hair, a braided goatee and wearing overalls. “Blake! When did yo— oh, sorry,” he cuts himself just before he hugs her, noticing at the last second that his clothes are filled with dirt and milk stains, “when did you get back?” 

“Three days ago. I know I promised to give Lily a call as soon as I arrived, but it turned out Yang also got back the same day and... well, we wanted to take a few days to ourselves,” she explains sheepishly.

The man smiles brightly, crossing his arms. His friendly and cool disposition reminds him a bit of Yang. “Don’t say another word, my dear, I understand completely. Anyway, you know we’re in for dinner whenever you want, just give us a touch.”

“Next weekend at the latest, I promise.”

“Perfect. By the way,” he glances curiously over her shoulder, right at the twins, “you’re not gonna make introductions?”

"Oh, sure," Blake makes some complicated gestures with her hands, but ends up shrugging in defeat. “This is, huh... kind of a long story. But the gist of it is that they’re going to be our guests for a few days. Bas, these are Damon and Phoebe. Kids, this is Basil Talanta.”

Damon steps forward and waves at the farmer. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Basil!”

He crouches to look him in the eyes. “Nice to meet you too, champ! But please, just call me Bas,” taking off one of his work gloves and offering him his hand, he fakes surprise when the boy gives him a shake. “Woah, what a powerful grip you got there!”

Damon giggles and steps aside to let his sister introduce herself too. “Hi there, nice to meet you, sir,” she says, putting up a cool smirk.

“My pleasure, little lady,” he greets with a gesture similar to taking one’s hat off, before standing up to look at the woman again. “So! Are you hungry? Can I prepare something quick for the three of you? There are some pancakes left from this morning I think...”

“No, no, we just had breakfast, thank you, Bas. I actually came to talk to you and Lily about something,” she quickly clears up.

The man’s expression turns serious. “Oh, what is it?”

“Remember the coming ceremony of the FIS in Atlas?”

He caresses his goatee and nods. “The opening of the new office? Yeah, what about it?”

Blake’s ears perk up and she puts her hands on her waist. “Well, turns out my parents won’t be able to attend, so now I have two spare invitations… Would you and Lily like to come? Accompanying children don’t need one, so you can even bring Aster with you.”

This time the surprised face he makes is genuine and unmistakable. “A-Are you serious?! Well, o-of course! I mean, we need to check with Lily first but, uh... I don’t think she’ll have anything to say against it. It’s been a couple of years since the last time we visited the kingdom."

"Just a warning," the faunus cautions, folding her ears, "General Ironwood will be attending as well. Don't want you to get caught by surprise…"

Bas just shrugs it off, blowing a raspberry. "Bah, that old tin can no longer scares me. Don't worry."

Blake gives a chortle, covering her mouth in amusement. "Don't let him hear you calling him that, he hates _those_ jokes."

The farmer starts cackling loudly. "Tell me about it!"

The twins look at each other with a frown, missing whatever joke that was, but at the very least Damon can tell that Blake and Bas are really good friends, judging by the obvious camaraderie between them. It's nice to see this kind of interaction after that whole thing with the old lady from before.

"Anyway, there's a lot of things we need to discuss," Blake resumes after taking a deep breath, and starts lifting fingers. "Flying tickets, hotel room, dinner reservations, seats for the ceremony… Is now a good time or do you want me to come back later?"

Bas takes a quick look behind him and hums to himself. The kids look too, catching a glimpse of the cows standing idly in the back of the barn. They are a good distance away, but Damon can appreciate just how massive they are!

"Nah, I'm done here," Basil finally confirms, taking the other glove off and dusting his hands. "Come, let's talk with the queen of the house."

The two adults turn around to go inside the house, but Blake stops for a moment, regarding the twins. "Kids, this is going to be boring grown-up stuff, so how about you go meet Bas' daughter?" she makes a pause to look back at her friend, "is that okay with you?"

"By all means. My little muffin could use some company, especially right now," he agrees with a strange look that Damon can't quite decipher, pointing with his thumb behind him, to the fields behind the house. "She's with the herd. Just follow the sheep and you'll find her fumbling around or lazing on top of a rock."

The sheep?! Oh boy, oh boy!

"Sounds good!" Damon exclaims all too eagerly while pulling Phoebe's hand. "Come on, sis!"

She looks at him like he has three eyes, but compels. "O-Okay, okay."

"Stick with Aster and don't wander around! I'll come find you when we're done, okay?!" Blake shouts before they manage to get too far.

"Yeaaaah!"

And just like that they're off, following the trail of fluffy white clouds into the grasslands.


	6. Ep I: Chapter 6

It doesn’t take long for the twins to reach the group of fluffy animals, and not just because Phoebe herself is pretty hyped to touch a real sheep, but because Damon might as well be dragging her across the ground and their speed would be exactly the same. It’s becoming a habit of his to take her hand and just book it with little to no warning. Not that she’s complaining though, it’s a nice change of pace to let him take the lead after all the time she had to look out for the both of them.

Still, the moment she trips over a pebble and nearly kisses the ground is the moment she draws the line. “D-Damon, take it easy!”

Her twin looks back at her with his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink and mutters a quick “Sorry.”

She bends over to regain her breath and then looks back to him, furrowing her brow in slight disapproval. “I’m excited about touching them too, but how about we don’t lose our teeth in the process, huh?”

“R-Right…” he meekly lets go of her hand and they walk the rest of the way at a slower pace.

The herd is peacefully pasturing the fields, spreaded across an area at least two or three times the size of Bas’ farmyard. There has to be more than thirty of them —or more!—, which makes Phoebe wonder how hard it must be to guide them all in and out of the barn, especially for a single person.

Speaking of which, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only sheep, rocks and green as far as the eye can see. There weren’t even houses in the distance. Blake had said that her friend lived on the other side of town, but turns out it was literally the last house of the village! Anyway, isn’t Bas’ daughter supposed to be guarding the sheep? By the look of it, it seems that the herd is very much on its own.

“Do you see anyone?” she asks, squinting her eyes and standing on her tiptoes to search for the girl.

Damon hums, looking around as well. “Nop,” he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts out into the distance, “helloooooooo! Mr. Basil’s daughteeeeeer!”

But the only response they receive are some sheep turning their heads at the two faunus making a fuss in the middle of the field.

Phoebe grumbles, losing her patience. “What was her name?”

“It was… uh, I think… Ugh! How was it?”

She shrugs and shouts out the same nickname Bas used before. “Heeeeeeey, little muffiiiiiin!”

…

Nothing, only the midday breeze blowing gently across the meadow.

“What do we do?” Damon turns to her with a conflicted look. It seems like he wants to try looking for her, but at the same time he keeps glancing at the sheep from the corner of his eyes.

“Nothing, we tried calling out to her. If she doesn’t want to come out, it’s her problem,” she says dismissively, immediately turning around to face the fluffy animals around them with an eager look. “I wanna try touching one…”

“Yeah, me too.”

The sheep themselves pretty much ignore the kids as they both wander around and don’t divert their attention from the grass, baaing every now and then because… Well, she’s not really sure, they just sort of do it out of the blue…

Noticing one of the animals pasturing near her, she slowly walks up to it with her hands outstretched. “Hello, buddy…” one of its ears suddenly jerks towards her, and then raises its head from the ground to look at the girl through those weird rectangular-shaped eyes. Phoebe freezes like a statue as the sheep stares at her —all the while it munches on a handful of grass— for an awkward ten seconds. She takes one temptative step forward, and then the sheep trots away from her. 

Pouting, she tries her strategy once again with a couple more sheep, but the result is always the same. “Ah, come on…”

“Hey, don’t be afraid, I just wanna be your friend!” she hears Damon saying, and turns around to the sight of her brother chasing after a sheep that doubles him in size and seems far more annoyed than afraid.

She guffaws at her twin’s failure and crosses her arms. At least she’s not the only one being rejected. “Well, well, well... I guess your charm has finally failed you, my dear brother.”

He comes to a stop in his pursuit and turns back to her with his lips pursed. “My charm is perfectly fine, thank you very much,” he declares, puffing his chest in challenge. “I bet I can befriend a sheep before you do.”

“Oh, it’s on, bro!” she still owes that cheater for all the tickling earlier, after all. That’ll teach him!

With a glint in her eye, she turns round and stalks a sheep that’s just a dozen feet away, champing on a patch of flowers. This time however, she moves as slow and delicately as she can and without saying a word. The sheep eyes her everytime she takes a step towards it, but otherwise makes no move to get away, unlike the rest. Perhaps this one’s just more curious than the others…

Phoebe can’t help the silly smile tugging at her lips, she’s so close she can almost feel the soft wool under her fingers. With only one hand outstretched, she remains still, letting the sheep close the gap between them. The animal starts sniffing the air around her hand curiously, drawing near and near until its snout is an inch away from her palm.

Just a little more…

But suddenly, something smacks her right in the butt. It’s so painful that Phoebe all but jumps in the air with a piercing shriek, obviously scaring the sheep away in the process. “W-What the hell was that?!” her hands shoot down to her backside to caress her sore buttcheek as she keeps jumping in place.

Her twin’s quickly at her side, alarmed. “What happened?!” 

“I don’t know! Something just… hit me!” she explains, sucking air through her teeth. “Ouuuch… it’s gonna leave a bruise, I’m sure.”

Damon looks around warily. “I don’t see anything, sis. You sure you didn’t get stung by a bug or something?”

“A bug?” she throws her hands in the air, indignated. “A bug?!”

“M-Maybe there are bigger bugs here than in the city?” her brother ventures... right before leaping in the air himself, yelling in pain, “Aaargh!” He also starts caressing his butt and bouncing where he stands. “I got stung too!”

Phoebe bares her teeth in anger, there’s no way this is a bug. She takes a defensive stance next to her brother and exclaims out loud, “Come out, coward!”

“Coward?!” someone yells.

And then the culprit finally shows herself, stepping out of her hiding spot behind a sheep. She wears a gray t-shirt and a long and thick wool skirt that reaches down to her ankles, but that’s not the most striking part of her outfit. The girl —who Phoebe’s already assumed to be Bas’ daughter— is also wearing a red cotton scarf all over her head like some sort of hood, only revealing a small circle of russet, reddish-brown skin and two big rouge eyes staring sharply at them. Phoebe’s eyes, however, are glued to the offending weapon at her hands, a large crimson slingshot that the girl is already helding taut and pointed at them.

“How dare you call me coward, you scoundrel?!” she demands in an overly dramatic tone, her voice muffled behind the scarf. “Put your hands where I can see ’em!”

Damon’s arms shoot upwards, nervous and offended. “W-We’re not scoundrels!”

Phoebe, on the other hand, isn’t taking any of this. She forcefully lowers her brother’s arms while glaring daggers at their attacker. “You just flung some pebbles at us while you were hidden. _That_ makes you a coward, coward.”

The girl takes one more step towards them, not pulling the weapon away. Instead, she aims at the faunus girl. “I’m a sniper, I shoot from long distances!”

“Snipers, the cowardest of the cowards,” Phoebe shrugs, wiggling her eyebrows. She doesn’t really think that, but she just feels like getting under the girl’s skin. She deserves it.

The red-hooded sniper growls something under her breath, harrumphs and just maintains her guard up, switching her aim between the two targets before her. “I’m the Red Bowmaiden, a Huntress apprentice! And I’m not gonna fall for your taunts, _scoundrel_.” Phoebe’s eye twitches. “Now tell me, who are you and why were you harassing my herd?”

Bowmaiden? But that’s not a bow, that’s just a slingshot...

The faunus girl is about to retort but her twin steps forward before she has the chance. He holds his hands up, showing that he’s unarmed. “We are, uh… We are…” she watches her brother bite his lips and look for the right words. Is he trying to find a way to tell the girl about their situation? “We are actually a couple of Huntsmen apprentices ourselves!”

…

“Huh?” Phoebe stares at her brother, dumbfounded.

“Huntsmen?” the hooded girl asks in confusion while lowering her weapon.

“Yep!” he exclaims brightly, turning to stand beside his sister and sliding an arm over her shoulders. “We’re the legendary Terror Twins, right sis?” he gives her a playful smile and a wink.

Ohhhhh, so that’s how they’re approaching this, huh?

Well, they might as well show their attacker that she’s not the only one with a character. After years of watching _Young Huntsmen League_ , it’s obvious that the twins and all their friends back at the orphanage would create their own Huntsmen and Huntresses personas to play around and make their own epic stories. And their characters called themselves the Terror Twins!

It’s been a long time since the last time they role-played, so there’s a part of her that squeals in joy at the idea of getting in character for the first time in months. 

She slides her own arm around Damon’s shoulders and plays along. “That’s right! We’re the Terror Twins!”

The hooded girl puts down her weapon completely and stares at them with a curious glint in her eyes. “Why ‘Terror’ though? That sounds evil,” she questions, dropping the dramatic tone.

Damon sticks his nose up in the air and glances at Phoebe from the corner of his eye. “Because we’re _not_ afraid of villains.”

She glances back with a smirk and takes her cue. “Villains _are_ afraid of us!”

And then the two of them make an ugly face, stretching the corners of their lips in a wicked sneer that displays their perfect sets of arrowhead-shaped teeth.

“Raaaaawwwwwr!” they both growl at the same time.

…

Their attacker remains frozen for a couple of seconds, but then suddenly bursts out laughing, doubling over herself with mirth. “Oh my god, bwahahahahaha! T-That’s too good!” she sheaths her weapon back stucking the handle inside of her skirt and removes the scarf off her head. A small mop of curly brunette hair cascades over her shoulders. “O-Okay, you know what?” she half-says half-chuckles, wiping a tear with the scarf before settling it around her neck. “There’s no way you guys are scoundrels! You’re _way_ too funny to be evil-doers, even with those crazy-looking chompers!”

“So, are you gonna apologize for throwing pebbles at us?” Phoebe demands, hands sternly on her waist.

“Yup, I humbly ask for your forgiveness, my fellow Huntsmen!” the girl bows her head dramatically after recovering from her laughing fit. “Jokes aside, sorry about that. You looked so defenseless trying to befriend my little ones that I couldn’t help myself!” she then purses her lips at Phoebe. “Besides, you deserved it for calling me that nickname. Only my dad can call me that.”

“You mean little muf—?” Damon ventures.

“Shush! Don’t say it! It’s forbidden!”

“A-Ah, sorry!”

“What do we call you then? We don’t know your name.” Phoebe comments matter-of-factly.

The girl dusts her wooly skirt and stands before them with both hands outstretched. “Call me Aster, Aster Talanta!”

“Damon, nice to meet you,” he takes one hand.

“I’m Phoebe,” she takes the other and they both shake at the same time.

Aster furrows a brow. “Just Damon and Phoebe?.”

“Well… Just Damon and Phoebe, yeah…” the faunus girl murmurs, exchanging awkward looks with her twin.

They probably had a last name at one point in the past —she guesses—, but if they weren’t old enough to walk, then much less to remember. They’ve fooled around quite a few times, trying to make up one that matched their names, like most of their friends back at the orphanage, but at the end of the day it was just for fun.

“Huh, weird,” their new friend shrugs, not putting any more thought into it. She moves away, taking something from her satchel and offering it to a sheep near them. The animal approaches her and starts licking her palms. “Anyway, did you just move in or something? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Nope, we’re just, uh... visiting I guess. We’ll leave in one or two more days,” she answers while kicking the ground absentmindedly.

Aster’s expression suddenly darkens. “Oh… That’s a shame, this place could really use a few more kids. It’s always boring being by myself here.”

“You’re the only one?” Damon cocks his head in bewilderment.

“There used to be more,” the brunette sends the sheep off and and wipes her hands with the skirt, “but their families moved away to the main city. I still see ‘em at school and all that, but it’s not the same.”

Phoebe clicks her tongue. “Moving away to the city? That sounds like a downgrade to me... This place looks like it belongs in a fairy tale. What kind of weirdo would choose that over this?”

“I know, right? That’s exactly what I thought.”

It has to be hard being the only kid in your town, Phoebe thinks. She and her brother have been on their own for almost half a year, but they’ve always had each other. Even if they were hungry, thirsty or tired, they never felt lonely. She’d like to ask the girl how she spends her time if she doesn’t have anyone to play with, beside working at the farm, but she doesn’t want to make everything awkward again after they finally broke the ice.

They should change the subject…

As if reading her thoughts, Aster turns her frown upside down and smiles at them. “Hey, come here for a moment.”

When they do, she puts her hands inside her satchel again and presents them with a couple of fist-sized pebbles. At first she thinks they’re some kind of Dust crystals because of their bright pink colour, but no, they’re just plain old rocks…

“Uh, what are we supposed to do with this?” Phoebe eyes hers with an arched brow.

The brunette sighs, shaking her head as if she was dealing with a toddler. “Hah... you city folk really know nothing of farm life, do you?”

“Oh please miss little muffin, I beg you, enlighten us!” Phoebe retorts with a sarcastic smirk. At her side, Damon giggles under his breath.

“Smarty-pants…” Aster pouts, before lifting a finger like a know-it-all. “These are mineral licks! They're a supplement to the herd's diet in the form of minerals and nutrients. They’re salt rocks, basically, but the sheep love them," then she pushes them both towards a couple of animals, “c’mon, show it to them.”

Damon is the first one to do it, and is immediately rewarded when the closest sheep starts sniffing in his direction. “Ohhh, it’s coming, it’s coming! Phoebe, look!” the animal reaches the boy and just like that starts licking furiously at both the rock and his palms, making him laugh. “It tickles!”

Watching her brother overflowing with merriment, she eagerly stands next to him and shows her rock to another sheep that’s passing close by. “Hey, I got one too!”

As she expected, the sheep comes closer and gives Phoebe the same treatment her brother is receiving. Its tongue is big and soft like a dog’s, and the fluffy fella’s eagerness to taste the salt makes it lick all over her hands, and soon she too starts giggling.

“Told you, they love it,” Aster comments from behind them.

The rock is small, so she can hold it in one hand while using the other to pet the sheep. It makes a baaing sound with its throat without putting a stop to the licking, kinda like a purr, but only for a moment, not constant. “You get to do this everyday?” she asks the shepherd, enraptured by the animal’s soft fur.

“Almost. Sometimes my mom takes care of the herd while I help my dad with the cows or do other chores, like homework and stuff,” the brunette explains. Phoebe looks back at her, only to realize that the girl is now literally mounting on a sheep, like a weird farmer knight. The animal itself doesn’t seem to mind the kid’s small weight, seeing as it hasn’t even bothered to get its snout off the ground.

“That’s cool…” Damon adds, mimicking his sister and petting the sheep with one hand.

The twins stand there for several minutes, having the time of their lives, but eventually the sheep have enough and walk away. She’s had a lot of fun but… ugh, now her hands smell like sheep’s breath.

“So, huh,” Aster starts, getting down from the sheep to retrieve the rocks, “who are you visiting anyway? Uncles? Grandparents? Please tell me you’re not Mrs. Mellivor’s grandkids...”

Phoebe immediately perks up, grimacing at the thought. “That old fart? Ha! Nope.”

The brunette exhales in relief. “Oh, good… I’m sure if she found out I took out her grandkids to hang with my herd she’d freak out.”

“Do you know if she has any?” Damon suddenly asks, strangely interested.

“Grandkids? Beats me…” she shrugs. “She’s always alone and mad. When my friends still lived here we never got near her house while playing, or she would get mad. Why? Have you met her?”

“Yeah, we had a little encounter on our way here,” Phoebe says while scratching her scalp. “She was so rude to us… And all Blake did was say good morning.”

“Blake?!” Aster asks with her eyes wide open, stepping closer to them. “Wait, you’re Blake’s family?!”

“W-Well, you could say we’re, huh, distant cousins. Very, _very_ distant cousins!” Damon tries to explain, recoiling because of the girl’s closeness. 

Phoebe nods to that. They’re still not sure who they can tell their whole predicament, so they better go along with the woman’s story for the time being. “That’s right, but we don’t really see her very often.”

Aster visibly deflates, obviously disappointed by their answer. “Ohhh, that’s a shame. I was hoping that maybe she’d told you some stories about the Vesper March...”

“I wish, but she said they weren’t appropriate for children,” Phoebe confesses, speaking a bit of truth this time.

She isn’t sure what kind of things they experienced during that whole thing, but it had to be pretty darn scary for them to be so secretive about it. There were Huntsmen and soldiers, fighting against Grimm for a few months straight… but that’s it, right? Isn’t that Huntsmen daily life? How comes one mission is soooo much scarier than the rest?

Aster blows a raspberry, crossing her arms. “Tell me about it, my dad has only told me a couple of ‘em in my entire life.”

“Oh, was your father a Huntsman too?” Damon wonders.

“Nah, he was a pilot for the atlesian army,” she explains off-handedly. “His job was to guide Huntsmen teams across the Grimmlands, give them objectives and all that stuff,” she then gets a strange glint in her eye, smirking smugly. “And one of those teams was RWBY.”

The twins stay silent, waiting for the girl to elaborate on that. Although the name sounds oddly familiar to her —their teacher back at the orphanage probably named a few of the teams that took part in the campaign—, it seems Aster expects them to know of that particular team for some reason. She recalls that an atlesian vessel led the entire force as a flagship, but as far as she remembers from her book, all Huntsmen teams were equally important during the Vesper March.

“Huh, team RWBY… Team RWBY...” her twin furrows his brow, arms crossed deep in thought.

She too starts racking her brain, but to no avail. “Doesn’t ring a bell…”

Aster glances between them like they just got out of an asylum, shaking her head in disbelief. “You know, the team _your_ cousin and her wife were part of?”

Oh, shucks...

“O-Oh! Of course, team RWBY!” Damon stammers, seeing their fake backstory in peril. “Of course we’ve heard of them, it’s just that, huh, Blake rarely speaks about it, right sis?”

Phoebe nods vigorously, trying to find a way to respond without blowing up their cover. “Yeah, she may have mentioned it a couple of times, but she’s never told us much. Only that they were with the rest of the Huntsmen force during the war and stuff,” she then diverts the question to the brunette, pointing a finger at her, “what have _you_ heard about them?”

If Aster was disappointed by learning of their ignorance on the matter, she quickly gets uplifted after being asked about her own knowledge.

“The _truth_ , that’s what I’ve heard,” she smiles widely and beckons them to get closer.

  


* * *

  


Yang has been wandering all morning across Mistral with the excuse of doing a few minor chores, but in reality she just wanted to cool off and be alone with her thoughts for a while. The memory of last night’s argument is still fresh and she’s been trying to make peace with Blake’s words since then.

‘ _Do you really want to be that absent mother that never sees her children_?’

That sentence in particular had hurt more than she expected, because it hit her right at home… Raven had been completely absent from her life since the moment she abandoned them, obviously. And Summer, as amazing as she was, was rarely ever at home with them due to her job. Still, she and Ruby always had their dad, who gave up on the Huntsman life to stay with them at home. Who would these kids have if she was hired for a mission at one corner of the world and Blake was called to the opposite corner due to her own responsibilities?

Back in the day, both women had accepted the fact that their jobs gave them less time to be together. They weren’t apart for too long, maybe a few days, a week, two weeks at the most… But they were grown-ups, and they loved and were proud of each other, they could handle the distance. These kids didn’t have to —shouldn’t have to— endure such a thing, even if they could...

‘ _We must our feelings aside, and do what’s best for them_ ’

Because why allow them to be in that predicament when they could find them a family that can be with them, one hundred percent of the time? It is the most logical conclusion, and the most beneficial to them. Yang isn’t happy about it, but what can she do? She wasn’t able to give her wife an answer at the time so she’d simply stormed off, letting her short temper get the best of her, as usual…

She truly regrets the cold shoulder she gave her this morning, and feels horrible for reacting the way she did. Blake’s only trying to do what she thinks is best for them and… and maybe she’s actually right, maybe Yang is letting her feelings blind her into making the wrong decision. But there’s a voice deep within that keeps reassuring her, telling her that she hasn’t met these children just to send them off to be someone else’s problem... begging her to not allow this connection to break and fade away.

It’s the same thing she felt years ago, right after the Fall of Beacon.

She had lost her arm... she had lost Blake... she had lost Weiss... and she had finally lost Ruby, when her little sister decided to be the strong-willed person Yang always thought herself to be and left the comfort of their home to do what she believed was right.

At the time Yang had wanted nothing more than to lie down, let the days pass in peaceful routine and just rot away. She was broken, both physically and mentally. And this voice was there as well, chastising her for being such a wimp and _screaming_ at her to get up, to put on that fucking metal arm and take back the reins of her life, but her crushing depression and fears were very good at silencing it. If not for her father, she may had never listened…

This time the voice is clearer than ever, but she's afraid to listen. Because just as Blake said, this time there is more than their own future at stake.

Right now she's headed towards the same place she was supposed to go yesterday. After parking her car, she passes by the exact same spot the twins were sitting at when she found them, a small and unremarkable corner of one of the lower district’s main avenues. She lingers there for a moment and notices the nearby dumpster, the one Phoebe used to hide their cardboards for when they got back. The fact that they took her upon her offer —innocently thinking of it as some sort of vacation— while being fully prepared to get back to being homeless… it just breaks her heart.

Of course, Yang never really intended to let them return to the streets. That life is over, one way or another.

She crouches before the dumpster and slides a hand underneath, quickly getting a hold of the pack of worn-out cardboards and getting it out. On top of the pile there’s their small sign, conveying a short and concise message.

‘ _Please spare a coin, we’re hungry_ ’ in black messy marker letters. A tiny smile tugs at her lips as she notices the beginning of the word ‘spe’ crossed out before ‘spare’, but she forces herself to snap back, open the dumpster and throw the cardboards inside. They won’t be needing them anymore.

The store she’s headed to is just a couple of blocks away, and she reaches it in just a few minutes, eager to finish the chores to focus on her own thoughts. The building is small, plain, uninteresting and barely noticeable due to it being located in a tiny alley away from the crowds, looking like the kind of ruined business that barely has any customers, if at all. But _Vulcan’s Workshop_ is, in reality, quite the opposite. You can’t find a better weaponsmith in the entire kingdom.

“Xiao Long, ‘twas about fuckin’ time!” the shopkeeper, a bald old man with wide shoulders and a messy ginger beard, sees her through the open window before she even enters the establishment. “You said you’d be comin’ yesterday, I waited all damn afternoon for ya.”

“Sorry, Bob,” she apologizes half-heartedly while entering the workshop.

The whole place is dimly illuminated by a couple of table lamps and what little sunlight enters through the alley. There are several chunks of metal in different shapes, sizes and colors scattered around the floor, most of which seem to have been weapons at some point. Huge containers with the emblem of the SDC are lined up against the wall, some already opened and revealing perfectly cut Dust crystals or liquid tubes. At the far back there are a couple of weapon racks, filled with shining and polished pieces of art that would make even Ruby proud, despite very few of them being actual Huntsmen weapons.

The old man himself is at the back of the store, busy with something on his workbench behind the counter. He keeps glaring at her with tired baggy eyes as she makes her way to his side. “Sorry? Sorry my ass.”

Yang rolls her eyes, leaning on the counter. “I told you I’m sorry, ok? Something important came up and I couldn’t make it,” she takes a little peek and, just as she expected, realizes that the man is doing maintenance on a weapon, a rifle apparently.

Bob grunts, or... chuckles, she isn’t quite sure. “Then stop sayin’ you need ‘em _as soon as possible_ , ‘cuz as far as I’m concerned you have the skills to make that shit in your garage, alright? It takes time makin’ that many, ya know? I had to delay a lot of jobs just for ya. And I already have to turn down a fuckton of 'em every week because I can barely handle everything on my own.”

That makes her feel a bit guilty... She always rushes him to take care of her supplies the moment she comes back from an assignment —a new job can come at any moment, after all—, and the man always does her the favor without complaining, putting everything he’s working at the moment aside.

“I’m really sorry, Bob,” she repeats, letting a long and tired sigh.

The weaponsmith looks at her from the corner of the eye like she has grown a horn or something, then after a second shakes his head. “Ah, whatever… It’s no use cryin’ over spilled milk, I guess. Anyway, they’re right there on the table, take ‘em.”

Yang glances over the man and notices the black case over his desk. Bob trusts her enough to let her walk freely over his workplace, so she walks up to the desk and picks up the big metallic box, opening it briefly to check the fresh ammunition inside. She doesn’t count them, but there should be thirty of these heavy high-explosive shells, custom made by the old man (something he makes sure to be recognizable by printing his signature ‘VULCAN’ on the side of each shell) to fit her robot arm’s cannon. Her left gauntlet still uses the good old shotgun rounds to take care of the lesser foes, but after a few encounters with the creatures that plagued the Grimmlands… Well, they made it clear that she needed a little bit more firepower.

She nods, satisfied with the old man’s work, and takes the case to the counter. “Thanks, Bob.”

He always makes the same amount for her, since it has proved to be enough in most situations (not like she could carry all of them anyway). Knowing exactly how much she owes him, Yang takes out her purse and grabs a few cards, but before she puts it on the counter, Bob is already on his feet and wiping his blackened greasy hands with his apron.

“Alright girl, spit it out,” he blurts with a stern voice.

Yang cocks her head. “Huh?”

“You haven’t smiled or made a sashy comment since you came through that door, not even once. So spit out, what’s bothering ya?”

She isn’t sure what to say… Is it really that obvious? It’s true that she has known the man for quite a few years, but still…

“It’s… ugh!” she tries to start, but grunts mid-sentence, frustrated. “It’s complicated.”

Old Vulcan fishes a smoke from one of his pockets and lights it using the lamp on his workbench, staring sharply at her. “Does it have anythin’ to do with that ‘something important’ that kept you busy yesterday?”

She keeps silent, but can’t contain the frown that crawls up her face. She doesn’t know how to explain it. She doesn't even know if she should…

Apparently, her silence seems to be enough, because the man sighs, puffing out a cloud of smoke at his side. “Is it that bad? Damn…”

“It’s just… delicate.” Yang finally admits, biting her lip.

They stay in silence for a few seconds, until Bob eventually continues. “Look, girl. I may not be the most delicate fella around, I spend each and every day surrounded by cold metal and every hour makin’ weapons and bullets... But I’ve been around for a long fuckin’ time. I don’t know, maybe I can give some advice or somethin’.”

Yang looks him in the eyes and for a moment considers telling him everything. They’ve never been close enough to talk about each other's personal lives, aside from the bare minimum. He knows she’s married and who she’s married with, and that she is a Vesper March veteran, but not much more. The only personal thing she knows about him is that he’s a retired Huntsman, and that he divorced a long time ago.

So at best one could say they were acquaintances, or maybe associates.

There’s no way she’s going to feel comfortable talking about this with him, but maybe she can ask for a bit of advice without getting into details.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, drumming her left knuckles with her robot fingers for a while, then she starts speaking. “Imagine…” she whispers, before finding more confidence and raising her voice, “Imagine if there was something you wanted, but the only way you could get it was by closing the workshop.”

Yang unconsciously uses Bob and his workshop as an example, but the meaning behind it isn’t lost to her. It’s hard to know when she started having these thoughts, but they’ve definitely been there since her fight with Blake, she simply didn’t want to admit it… and it shocks her to realize just how easily they came to her.

Is she seriously considering... quitting her Huntress life?

Bob immediately interjects, raising a hairy eyebrow at her. “It would depend on how much I wanted that somethin’, I think.”

His answer is pretty much what she expected, and something she knows already, but hearing someone else say it makes it feel more real. She needs to consider this very carefully.

What does it mean for her to be a Huntress?

An old memory comes to her, from that bizarre first year at Beacon. During her team’s first mission to Mountain Glenn with Professor Oobleck, the man started to question them one by one about the very reason they had to become Huntresses. She answered that the only thing she sought in life was thrill, adventure, a reason to travel around the world and get in as many problems as she could. Weiss and Blake were driven by personal purposes —the former wanted to prove that she was more than her father’s daughter, that she wasn’t a tool for him to use however he wanted, and the later wished to bring justice and equality to the world—, while she simply ‘went along’ with being a Huntress because it just happened to give her the excitement she wanted in life. Later that day, the three of them acknowledged the need to put their reasons aside in favor of doing their duty, but the memory still lingered in her mind...

That quickly changed the moment Salem and her followers entered the scene. From that point forward they were driven by the need to make justice, take revenge, and to make sure that the Witch’s plans never came to fruition. They were all united by a common purpose.

But after the war was over… They had to reconsider what they wanted to do in life once again.

Weiss decided to take her father’s position as head of the Schnee family and president of the SDC after he was sent to prison, out of her own sense of justice. Their company, and the whole kingdom of Atlas, had been responsible for many terrible things in the past, and she was determined to right their wrongs and prove that things could change.

Even if Blake hadn’t been bestowed the title of High Leader of the White Fang, the faunus confessed to her that she would’ve stopped being a Huntress either way. The things she wanted to accomplish couldn’t be achieved by a warrior, but by a diplomat. It was an easy decision.

Both girls abandoned their previous lives to dedicate themselves to what they felt was right.

Ruby remained as a Huntress, of course, along with Jaune, Ren and Nora, because that’s what they wanted to do in life. Even Oscar stuck with the Huntsman life until he was chosen to direct Haven Academy and became the youngest headmaster any Huntsmen Academy has ever had (all the things he learned from Ozpin really came in handy, huh?).

As for Yang… Well, she was at an impasse. Each and every member of their team knew exactly what they wanted to do, except for her. The thrill, danger and troubles she got during the whole Salem ordeal were worth an entire fucking lifetime, and definitely more than enough to satisfy her adventurous soul. But just like she did years ago, with the lack of a better choice, she gravitated towards what her sister had chosen. She remained a Huntress with the rest of their friends.

But now, however, she’s faced with something she didn’t quite expect.

She and her wife had talked about adoption a couple of times, but Blake always said that they had all the time in the world, that they shouldn’t hurry, and Yang was always fine with it, she didn’t want to force her into anything. Blake was right, they had time, they could wait until they were both comfortable with the idea.

Then she meets a couple of orphans living on the streets, against all odds, in a random corner of one of the biggest cities in the world, and something inside of her clicks. Phoebe’s reserved and stoic nature reminds her a lot of her own wife. Unwilling to open up, sharp-tongued… but one just needs to watch how much she cares for her brother to see how big her heart really is. And Damon… He has to be the sweetest little thing she has ever seen since Ruby stopped being a kid. So bright and innocent... but at the same time strong-willed, enough to stand up to his twin and scold her when he feels she deserves it, much like Ruby herself if Yang is honest.

She remembers last night, and how she instinctively tugged the twins in… how natural it felt. How _right_ it felt.

If someone had told her a few days ago that she would grow so emotionally attached to a couple kids she’s known for less than a day, she wouldn’t believe it. She still likes being a Huntress, but the truth is… she _doesn’t_ want them gone. She _doesn’t_ want to find them another family. She _doesn’t_ want to say goodbye.

She wants…

…

...

“Huh.”

Bob’s voice brings her back, and Yang realizes she’s been silent for over a minute now. She’s been staring at the ground for quite a while, with her hands balled into fists around the lien cards she picked up from her purse.

When she looks up, the man has a lopsided smile. “What?” she asks.

He shrugs, holding the cigarette between his lips. “Nothin’, you had a very determined look on yer face right now. Seems to me you’ve had yer answer all along, girl,” he taps two fingers to his temples. “You just didn’t know it.”

…

Of course.

Yang chuckles through her teeth as a great weight is suddenly lifted from her shoulders. Yeah, it seems like she didn’t, but she _does_ now.

She _definitely_ does.

There are so many things she has to consider, so many things to take care of and so many ideas blooming in her head. Her heart is beating fast and she’s feeling far more excited now at the prospect of it than in the last few years of her Grimm-slaying life.

She’s basically made up her mind at this point, but there’s still one shadow of doubt remaining at the back of her mind, one small fear that’s keeping her from doing what she wants to do. But she’s not going to allow it to freeze her in place. No, she’s done with moping around like a helpless little crippled. In the past, there was one person who eased all of her fears and got her on the right path after a long and tedious struggle. Perhaps he can put her mind at rest again. Yeah, if someone can help her, it’s _him_.

She needs to talk with her dad.

Slamming the lien on the counter, she hurriedly picks up the metallic case and hoists it over her shoulder. “Bob, I owe you big time! You’re the best old weird grouchy pal a girl can have!”

“Alright, alright, stop lickin’ my ass, blonde. I didn't do anythin’,” he barks, taking the money with a greasy hand, “now go and figure out whatever shit you’re dealing with.”

She beams at him, flashing a toothy grin. “Aye, aye!” she makes a military salute and shoots off to the front door with the heavy case hauled on her back, but she stops right at the threshold, looking back at the old weaponsmith. “If everything goes right, I’ll come see you tomorrow with an offer!”

“Huh? What do you— Hey, Xiao Long! Wait! Don’t get me involved in your crap, ya hear?! Hey!” he yells, but his voice fades away in the distance as she races out of the alley.

She has an urgent call to make.


	7. Ep I: Chapter 7

The trip back to Himawari feels incredibly short to Yang. 

Instead of going straight home, she makes a small detour through a secluded dirt road —driving across the woods— that takes her to the top of a lonely hill overlooking the entire village. It’s a place she discovered not long ago after they moved in, and one she visits whenever she feels like being alone, or simply to enjoy the breeze. During the night, the entire hill is bathed by moonlight, away from the city lights, and it’s gorgeous. Yang had experienced it first hand only a couple of days ago, after she and Blake had come back from their respective trips and went together for a private picnic under the stars.

To think that only a few days later they’d be at odds… But still, Yang knows she’ll manage to get through to the stubborn faunus in the end. That has always been her specialty, after all.

The midday sun shines brightly over the hill as she parks her car comfortably under the cool shadow of a tree. The moment she comes out, the gentle wind caresses her cheeks and makes her ponytail flutter along with the tail of her coat.

In the distance, beneath the hill, she can see the entire village, a small and peaceful community surrounded by miles and miles of meadow and forest. In the past, life out here was a lot harder, since the threat of Grimm was a constant danger that settlement-dwellers like these were forced to endure in order to maintain their lifestyles. You never knew when a ravenous horde of monsters might show up during the night and raze the entire village to the ground, killing every single person in sight in cold blood.

But now… Now everything is different. There hasn’t been a single Grimm sighting in Himawari in the last five years. Small settlements outside city walls are common occurrence now, and they grow in number day by day. Disasters like Mountain Glenn will never happen again, and humanity is finally free to live however they like, whenever they like.

Things like this make the living hell they went through all those years ago absolutely worth it.

Yang takes a deep breath until her lungs are filled to the brim, exhales... and just basks in the peaceful environment for a minute. Then, she slowly walks towards the front of the car, sits on its lightning yellow-coloured hood and picks up her scroll from an inner pocket. She’s been racking her brains for a solid fifteen minutes, and she still isn’t sure how to approach the whole subject with her dad… Even so, she decides that it’s better to face the problem as soon as possible, before she starts having second thoughts.

“Alright, let’s do this.” she mutters to herself, staring fiercely at the folded device in her left hand.

With a flick or her finger, she opens the screen and navigates through her contact list until she reaches the face she’s looking for. She takes one last breath, and taps the ‘Call’ button.

No turning back now.

It takes over half a minute —something quite rare, since the man is always eager to talk with them—, but soon the bright and dorky smiling face of Taiyang Xiao Long is looking right back at her from the other end of the line. He’s gained a few wrinkles over the last few years, and his hair has already started to turn a faint shade of grayish blonde, but his expression is still as youthful and energetic as ever. “Hey, kiddo! Sorry, I was just in the middle of something.”

“Hi, dad,” she greets back with a smile, glancing over his shoulder to a messy room filled with old junk, which she promptly recognizes as her old house’s cellar . “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just taking out the old tablecloths. You know, the good ones,” he answers casually, aiming the camera at the embroidered cloth —slightly blackened in some areas— made into a ball in his arms.

Yang grimaces in disgust. “Ain’t those the ones from the celebration dinner when Ruby and I got accepted into Beacon?”

Her dad smirks as he keeps walking through the house with the camera pointed at him. “Yup, the good ones.”

“The ones we almost _burned_?” she emphasizes, recalling that disastrous party the night before they were sent to Vale.

“ _The-good-ones_ ,” his expression gets hard, almost offended. 

“Okay, okay, fine...” she concedes, throwing her free hand in the air. She’s not going to have another argument with her dad about his nostalgia obsession. That’s a long lost battle. “Soooo, what’s the occasion anyway?”

The man blinks, clearly confused. “The Spring Festival, of course. It’s less than two weeks away, Yang,” he explains, putting the tablecloths down and sitting in the living room. “I… I thought that’s why you were calling. Didn’t Blake tell you I called yesterday?”

Ohhh right, the Spring Festival. Wow, has it been an entire year already? It must be true what people say, time really starts going faster the older you get.

“Uhh, no, she didn’t te—” she starts, but stops mid-sentence as she recalls the events of the previous day. She… she vaguely recalls her wife saying something about her dad before she introduced her to the twins, yeah, but they were so caught up in getting them what they needed that they forgot. She facepalms with her robot hand. “Y-Yeah, yeah she did. But something happened and we kinda… well, forgot. Sorry...”

“It’s alright,” Tai chuckles nonchalantly. “Anyway, can I count on both of you this year? If you miss it, your old man will take the wrestling trophy back home once again. Think about your reputation...” he taunts with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Yang blows a small giggle through her teeth, raising a teasing eyebrow at him. "You better be careful, dad. Bones don't mend all that well at your age."

"Hey, I’m still in my prime!" he retorts, pointing the camera at one of his arms while flexing his biceps. “This steel will remain hard for a Xiao Long time, baby.”

It’s not the first time he’s made that stupid old pun —neither has she—, and it’s definitely not going to be the last, but Yang laughs just as whole-heartedly as the first time. The man smiles from ear to ear, glad to see his sense of humor being appreciated every once in a while, even though she’s probably the only other person alive that shares his taste. Seriously, something has to be wrong with them…

As their laughter dies out, the man regards her with a gentle smile once again. “Can I count on you then? The festivities won’t be the same without you.”

“I don’t think Blake has any important trips scheduled until next month,” she ventures, touching a metallic finger to her chin, “so we’ll probably be able to drop by, yeah.”

Last year, her wife had been called to attend a last-minute committee meeting on Menagerie, while Yang and the rest of the team were hired by Ironwood to escort an Atlesian convoy into the northern Grimmlands. And since none of them were going to attend the festival, Weiss decided to politely decline too. The former heiress has a tight agenda, so she only drops her responsibilities when she has a chance to spend time with everyone.

It had been a lonely festival for her dad last year —if she doesn’t take Raven into consideration, which she never does—, but luckily all of them should be able to go this time around. It’s one of those rare occasions when the old gang can all gather together to have fun, at least once a year, so that’s pretty awesome.

“Oh nice, you’ve just made my day! You’ll stay for the whole festival, right? I’ll get the guest rooms ready!” her father exclaims, voice dripping with merriment.

Yang can only roll her eyes at his enthusiasm. “We can just rent a room at the inn, you know? If everyone stays, the house’s gonna be pretty packed up as it is…”

“Nonsense, no member of my family is gonna spend the festival at an inn. I’ll buy a couple of extra mattresses and, huh, I’ll figure it out,” he nods to himself with a furrowed brow.

“Welp, so long as we don’t have to sleep on the couch…”

“I’ll figure it out,” he repeats gravely. “Anyway, if you didn’t call for the festival, what did you want, sweetie?”

Yang straightens herself, clearing her throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something, but…” she’s feeling somewhat more relaxed now, and ready to put her emotions on the table, but she needs to be sure of something first. “Is _she_ there with you?”

The smile is swept off his face in an instant, and replaced with a disheartened frown. He shakes his head with a sigh. “No, she’s… she’s gone to town to do some groceries, I don’t think she’ll be back for an hour or so. Why? Is it about her?”

She denies it by shaking her head with a complicated expression. “No. Well, I mean… kinda? It’s more about you than her, but I don’t want her listening in. It’s none of her business, and it would be… uncomfortable.”

Her father is clearly hurt by her declaration, and it’s obvious by the way he averts his gaze that he really wants to say something, but he remains silent, knowing better than to try and change her mind. The topic about Raven is far from settled, and she knows it. She’s been giving the woman the cold shoulder for years now, even though she still maintains a minimum of cordiality with her for her family’s sake. Her dad has tried to act as a mediator between them several times since they got back together at the end of the war, but Yang has never agreed to it. No, that wound was far too deep to heal…

Eventually he will try to reason with her again to make peace with the woman, he’s stubborn like that... For now, however, he manages a little nod to show he understands her feelings.

Releasing a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, Yang tries to redirect the conversation. “The thing I wanted to talk about… It’s about the time I was born, when she left us.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his previous disappointment giving way to curiosity.

Rather than going straight for the main question, she starts by easing him into the subject. "Was it hard giving up being a Huntsman to... take care of me?”

Her dad seems mildly surprised by her question, but he doesn’t ask about her motives. Yang notices by the way he furrows his brows and caresses his chin in self introspection that he understands the seriousness of the topic. He leans back on the couch, shaking the camera a little bit as he gets comfortable, before he starts speaking. “It was… hard, in a way. You see, since I was a kid I had this big dream of becoming the strongest fighter in all of Remnant. How original, huh?” he smiles sheepishly. “And right after we finished our fourth year with flying colors… Well, it seemed that my dream was very much a possibility, if I kept working hard that is.”

She’s already made peace with the fact that her birth wasn’t something her parents had planned (there’s no way both of them just finished their Huntsmen studies and then went and said ‘Hey, you know what? Let’s settle down now’), but it stings a little to know that she also kept her dad from fulfilling his dreams, as childish as they were.

“Then we had you. And... the moment I saw your little face I was blown away completely. You were, like, the tiniest most precious thing I’d ever seen! With that small speck of golden hair and those pudgy, rosy cheeks!” he explains eagerly, giving her a teasing look.

“A-Alright, you can skip that part, dad…” she mutters awkwardly, flush raising to her ears.

He chuckles at her expense. “Sorry, sorry… But, you know, at that moment I realized that becoming the strongest fighter in the world meant nothing to me anymore. I had a new dream, raising my sunny little dragon and making her as happy as I could,” he declares with a warm smile. “That’s life, Yang. We like to dream big when we’re young, and some people actually have a fulfilling life trying to accomplish those dreams, but… sometimes happiness can be found in the smallest of things. A quiet town, a warm and stable home, kids running around...”

Yang remains silent, enraptured by her father’s words and how deeply they resonate with her.

“It was hard? Yes. Do I regret doing it? No, never had and never will. In fact, if I could, I’d probably go back just to experience everything again!” he exclaims. “Not that I don’t find pleasure in seeing my baby girls all grown up and living it up, ‘cause I do! But there’s something special and intimate about those first years…”

He’s talking about their childhood, before they entered their teens. Yang has distant memories of that time, of helping him take care of Ruby after Summer passed away and be like a miniature mom before her little sister started to be more independent. Dressing her, feeding her, lulling her to sleep… At first it had felt like a chore, something she had to do even if she didn’t like it, but that’s only because she was a kid at the time. As time went on, she came to enjoy that feeling of having someone look up to you and rely upon you, but moreover, she felt warm on the inside whenever she saw her little sister achieve something new, like learning to read or ride on a bicycle. It became a wholesome experience to be part of that growth.

That has to be what her dad felt as well.

“What about… What about Summer and Qrow?” she then points out, finally bringing out the main source of her doubts. “How did they take it?”

“They understood. Raven’s departure left the three of us in pretty bad shape, so I was a little self-conscious about their reactions when I brought up the topic of retiring. But they understood, and they supported me,” he admits, smiling fondly. “They were pretty smitten with you as well, to be honest, especially Summer. She used to spend almost all of her free time between assignments with us, doting on you.”

And that was how they started to develop feelings for each other. Yang knows that part of the story, and what comes next very well.

She already expected that answer, neither Summer or Qrow were the type of people to complain about something like that, on the contrary. But even so, it puts her at ease. She knows her sister, and her friends, and none of them are that kind of person either.

“Why the sudden interest?” her father asks, giving her a quizzical look. “Are you thinking about quitting or what?”

By the teasing tone he uses, it’s obvious he doesn't really believe that. His eyes widen in shock when she confirms it however. “I am.”

He nearly drops the scroll when he leans forward on the couch. “W-What? Are you serious? Why?”

If she wasn’t holding the scroll with her hand, she’d be fumbling her fingers together out of nervousness, so she settles for drumming with her robot ones on the hood of her car. The steady sound of the metal hitting back against her fingertips eases her tension and she manages to speak, almost whispering. “Same reason as you, actually…”

It takes a few seconds for that to sink in, judging by her dad’s blank stare, but when it does, his eyes shine brighter and his whole face turns into one big, goofy smile. “Wait… Don’t tell me...! Did you and Blake finally…?!” he must have shoved the scroll in his face, because in a second his face comically fills the entire image. “Oh my, oh my, oh my!”

“Dad, dad, don’t freak out,” Yang blurts out with an amused smirk, raising her free hand to calm the man down. “It’s a little bit more complicated than that.”

He slowly pulls back, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well…”

She didn’t give Bob any details on the matter, but she tells her dad absolutely everything. From the moment she met the twins at that filthy corner, to how she invited them to spend a few days with Blake and her, the dinner, how she tucked them in bed, and how all that made her feel. He keeps quiet for as long as she recalls the events, asking small questions about the kids and about Blake’s reaction. When Yang reaches the part about her disagreement with the faunus and how she used their jobs as an argument, her dad hums in understanding.

“I see… So that’s why you’re considering it? So at least one of you can stay with them?”

“It’s more than that,” she quickly clarifies. “All those things you’ve said, that’s how I feel right now! I imagine myself playing with them, watching them grow up, having them running around the house and, I don’t know, just…”

“Enjoying the little things in life?” he wonders with a knowing smile.

She chuckles lightly, and nods. “Enjoying the little things in life.”

He turns serious for a moment. “And what about a job? Have you thought about a career that will let you stay in the village? You could work for your Atlesian neighbour, if he wants. I’m sure he could use a hand with the livestock every now and then.”

“I have something in mind, actually, and it could work pretty well for me. Maybe all that tinkering I’ve had to do," she says, raising her robot arm for emphasis, "can be put to good use at a forge. Old Vulcan has a hard time taking care of all of his weekly assignments, so maybe I can reduce some of his workload, you know? It’s not one hundred percent sure yet, but I think I can convince him,” her old tools and schematics must be somewhere in the storeroom, she just has to take them all out and see what other materials she needs to set up a workshop at home. That’ll be this afternoon, then she’ll explain everything to Blake, and then tomorrow she’ll go to Bob’s place again with her offer.

Her father raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Oh, that’s great. What’s stopping you then?”

Yang runs a hand through her hair as she struggles with her own doubts. “It’s just… I don’t know if I’m being... selfish.” 

The man gives her a baffled look. “Selfish?”

“Yeah, I’m a Huntress, I’m supposed to be a guardian of humanity, right? Each time I go out there and hunt even a single Grimm, that’s one less monster that could kill an innocent tomorrow,” she explains, gesturing with her hand to the vast green fields surrounding the village. “And there’s also Ruby and the others. Can I just… leave them on their own ‘cause of my own wishes?”

Her father sighs, staring at her with a frown. “Yang, you're overthinking this. Despite what people thinks, we're not selfless heroes whose only purpose in life is to slay Grimm. Being a Huntsman is no different from being a cop or a soldier when you think about it. _No one_ expects you —or should expect you— to be a slave to your job forever. In fact, if there was ever a good time to think about retiring, it’s probably now!”

That was true… 

With the Grimm population reaching an all-time low came an era of prosperity, but not for everyone. Ironically, those who were worst affected by this newfound peace were the Huntsmen themselves. After all, what use serves a hunter with no prey to hunt? As time went on after the war, unemployment rate between Huntsmen started rising, to the point that only a small fraction were able to find jobs regularly. The main reason Yang, her sister and the others are consistently hired to raid the Grimmlands is because of their own personal contacts within the Atlas military. Those Huntsmen who are not renowned enough to be part of the ‘elite’ have it a lot harder to find any work…

Taking her silence as encouragement, he goes on. “Imagine that in… let’s say fifteen years, the Grimm become officially extinct. You’d have to retire anyway, and you would’ve missed this opportunity for nothing,” he warns. “The concept of Huntsman as we know it has its days numbered, and that’s a fact. What does it matter if you step aside a little earlier along the way? Someone else will be more than glad to fill in your spot,” he makes a pause to let his words sink in. And they do, Yang feels relief washing over her with each sentence. They’re not things she didn’t know before, but she _needed_ this, she needed to hear it from someone else. “As for Ruby, well… I think we both know your sister pretty well. If she finds out you wanted to quit, but decided to stay with them for their sake even if that made you unhappy, she’d shove her boot up your ass and kick you out of the team herself!”

That makes Yang snicker through her teeth. “No kidding.”

But even so, for a moment she thinks about Summer, and she can’t help but picture her little sister in her place, falling in battle because Yang has abando— … No, she stops that train of thought before it goes any further, because if she really considers that situation, she’d be indirectly blaming her father for Summer’s death. Salem and her minions were responsible for her stepmom’s death, no one else.

Ruby is strong, there’s no doubt about that. And the fact that her powers —unlike that of the Maidens— remained even after Salem and Ozpin met their ends, vanishing all magic from Remnant, makes her theoretically the best Huntress in the entire world. If not for the fact that using her eyes repeatedly in short periods of time leaves her incredibly exhausted, she probably wouldn’t even need a team at all… 

And Jaune, Ren and Nora were no slouches themselves, they’ve saved her butt more times than she can count. Aside from Weiss and Blake, she wouldn’t trust her sister’s safety to anyone else. 

Her dad smiles in return, his voice catching her attention once more. “And one last thing, kiddo. You’re _not_ being selfish,” he claims, turning serious. “Wanting to give your everything to a couple of children that have nothing? That’s being _something_ , yeah, but it’s most definitely not selfish.”

She lowers her head, a tiny blush rushing to her cheeks. She takes a big breath to hide her emotions and looks up, trying to put up a teasing smirk. “And this has nothing to do with you wanting to be a grandpa, surely.”

“Not at all!” he responds, shaking his head vigorously from side to side in a childish manner. When he looks back at her, both father and daughter start chuckling from their silly antics. “But seriously, Yang. I support you completely, and I’m _proud_ of the choice you’re making.”

She puffs out her chest, feeling a lot better as all the thoughts that tormented her slowly fade away. “Thanks, dad. I… I needed this.”

“Anything for you, sweetie. Just do me a favor, okay? Let your sister know right after you figure everything out. The sooner she knows you're leaving, the better.”

"Yeah, she'll be the first to know, I promise," she finally looks up from her scroll screen, gazing at the village in the distance, but most particularly at a small dot at one corner of it, between a patch of trees. Her home. "But first things first, I have to deal with the kitty."

Taiyang gives her a lopsided grin and a wink. "Go get her, girl."

“Talk to you later, dad. See ya,” she waves goodbye and her father answers with a two finger salute, then the call ends.

Her mind is clearer now. For the last twelve years of her life she’s devoted herself to protect the people of Remnant, to fight bravely against the Grimm threat whenever it took her, even if being a heroine wasn’t her primary goal all along. She’d sacrificed the left side of her body, which was left scarred and partially numbed for the rest of her life, and there were no prosthetics that could make it right this time...

Putting the scroll away, she adjusts her coat and slides off of the car. A strong gust of wind blows around her, and she stands there spreading her arms and taking a giant breath to take it all in.

‘ _It’s the life we chose_.’ Blake had said that night around the fire, all those years ago.

Well, not anymore. 

‘ _It's a job. We all had this romanticized vision of being a Huntress in our heads! But at the end of the day, it's a job to protect the people! And whatever we want, will have to come second_.’ Weiss had followed.

She has done a lot for the people already, now it’s finally time to have what she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a transition chapter. Not much happens but, in a way, things do happen. 
> 
> I could've written a bit more, but I felt that this was a really nice point to stop, with Yang finally coming to terms with her choice. I'm sorry if it feels like this introduction is progressing at a snail's pace, but I really want this to have a nice and sensitive build up. As much as I can at least...
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and see you on the next chapter!


	8. Ep I: Chapter 8

Yang has always been the type of person who grows through adversity. And that’s not her being arrogant or overly confident in her own abilities, it’s something she’d come to understand through hardships and troubles multiple times throughout her life. She’s always at her strongest right after she’s been at her weakest, both of her arms were proof of that. Of course, this time she hasn’t fought against an obsessive terrorist-slash-ex boyfriend that could slice her head clean off if she wasn’t careful, neither has she slain one of the most terrible predators in the world. But she _has_ defeated an old and very familiar enemy, her own doubts and indecisive nature.

There’s a renewed strength in her step, and the way she holds her head higher and keeps her back straighter as she gets out of her car is a testament of her newfound resolution.

Still, even if she’s made her choice, she knows in her heart that she won’t be able to proceed if Blake is not okay with it, as much as that would hurt her. This decision affects her wife just as much as it affects Yang herself, and there’s no way she’s just going to force her will upon the person she loves. No, that wouldn’t be love…

And Blake has her own set of problems to deal with when it comes to opening her heart to others. In the past she’d always blamed herself for the terrible things that happened to those close to her, and that led her to run away, to distance herself from the people that actually cared for her. Those old scars healed over time, but Yang can still see remnants of that insecurity lurking within her. She thinks that she’s not ready to raise a child? That she can screw up and they’ll somehow turn out badly? That she’s going to ruin their futures by being an awful mother? Of course she’s not, that’s her own lack of self-confidence speaking, not her. She’s the single most responsible, attentive, and selfless person Yang knows... she just doesn’t know it.

If only the stubborn faunus could see what Yang herself sees as clear as day...

But there’s hope yet. She hasn’t forgotten the way Blake handled the kids during dinner last night. Shushing her before she dropped some inappropriate gory war stories on their poor impressionable minds? Come on Blake, that’s mom material right there!

As she makes up her mind to help her wife see sense, Yang enters home —this time she hasn’t forgotten the keys— with the ammunition case over her shoulder, and is welcomed by an empty living room and a house drowned in complete silence, with not even the faintest sound of a whisper.

“Hello! I’m home!” she exclaims to no one in particular as she leaves the case on the table, expecting someone to respond.

Her wife’s voice calls back, she’s close enough that she doesn’t need to shout. “I’m here.”

Yang closes the door behind her, takes off her coat and goes to the room on the left, Blake’s study. It’s a small place —certainly smaller than their bedroom— without too much furniture, just as her owner likes. There’s a simple desk in the middle of the room and a couple of bookshelves filled with folders and documents of all kinds behind it. Two flower pots and a hanging moss give the room a very peaceful and welcoming feel, but it would otherwise be incomplete without the beautiful painting of the Belladonnas —along with a smaller Blake smiling sheepishly between them— looking over her from one of the walls. There’s a picture of Yang too —a photo of the couple posing together during their honeymoon aboard a cruise ship—, but this one is on the very desk, closest to the faunus. Blake is sitting there with her laptop open, facing the door, and her deep golden eyes fall on Yang the moment she enters the room.

“Hi,” the faunus greets, ears lowered.

“Hi…” they stare at each other in uncomfortable silence, like they don’t know what to say. 

Apart from this morning, when Yang told her she was going to Bob’s place, they haven’t spoken at all since last night. It’s always like this when they have an argument, no matter who’s at fault. They’re suddenly weird and shy around each other like awkward teenagers, but Yang knows that it’s just out of fear of making things worse. That being said, she knows fully well that she’s the reason they’re like this, and she wants to apologize for how she reacted before, but there’s something she needs to confirm first.

“Where are Damon and Phoebe?” she wonders, looking behind her as if expecting the duo to come out of nowhere and give her a scare.

Blake’s ears perk up a little bit. “I went to see Bas and Lily to tell them about the spare invitations to the ceremony, and the kids accompanied me to the farm. They wanted to stay a little longer to play with Aster, so I returned by myself to keep working,” she explains, leaning back on her seat and looking at the clock on her desk. “I told them to be back by two for lunch, they should be on their way.”

Those are awesome news. After being on their own for so long, she’s glad that the twins can have the chance to hang out and have fun with other kids, and the little shepherd really needed some new friends after the rest of the kids in town moved away. 

Just one more reason to go ahead with her plan.

“Oh! Good, good,” she wants to kick herself in the gut for being so awkward, but she settles for clearing her throat. “So, huh, what did the Talantas say? They’ll be coming?”

“Yeah, and they're pretty excited too. Apparently they were just looking for an excuse to visit Atlas."

"That's… That's cool, it’ll be great to have some more familiar faces among all those pompous snobs," Yang answers, tapping her feet nervously.

“You can say that again,” Blake chuckles meekly.

…

And just like that they’re back to silence again, but Yang has had enough of this weird atmosphere. Holding her breath, she takes a step forward. “Blake…”

The faunus perks up once more, giving Yang a meaningful look. “Yes?”

“Look, I-I’m sorry. Yesterday I—”

***DING*DONG***

They’re both startled by the sudden ring of the doorbell, and Yang is left with her mouth open and an apology interrupted. She bites her lip and looks remorsefully at her wife, who stares back with a gentle and slightly saddened smile. “There they are.”

“Y-Yeah…”

Blake gets up and walks up to the door, stopping briefly by her side. “We’ll talk later, okay?” it’s less than a question and more of a statement, which makes her regret not speaking up sooner. However, as numbed as her left hand is, the feather-like touch of her wife’s fingers across the back of her palm doesn’t go unnoticed.

She’s... not mad.

She’s not mad, Yang realizes, and she allows herself to breath in relief. They haven’t made peace officially, but at least Blake is not holding last night’s events against her. Of course she isn’t, she’s Blake… It’s been so long since she’s blamed someone for something, that she probably doesn’t even remember how to hold a grudge.

Responding with her own soft caress of the faunus’ hand, she nods. “Okay, then w—”

***DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG*DING*DONG***

They’re left speechless again, even if the abrupt flurry of rings make them both jump out of surprise and confusion. Blake is the first to recover, and her previous melancholic visage immediately turns into a self-contained shit-eating grin. “Jeez, you know them for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already corrupting them…”

Yang can’t contain a chuckle —and she doesn’t even try to, honestly—, and she tosses her ponytail back with a smug chagrin, following the joke. “What can I say? I’m an awesome role model.” 

“Sure you are,” Blake rolls her eyes and shoves her playfully on the shoulder before leaving the room to open the door. Smiling from ear to ear, the blonde breathes deeply and follows her wife to the entrance. She still has a lot to talk about with her, and maybe the faunus won’t take well to what Yang has to say, but she knows that in the end they’ll be able to work it out as a couple.

When they reach the entrance and Blake opens the door, they’re met by a blushing and very embarrassed Damon and a smirking, eyebrow-wiggling Phoebe on the other side.

“It was her…” the black-haired boy mutters under his breath, pointing shily to his sister.

The culprit nods with her hands on her waist, full of herself. “It was me!”

Blake groans comically, massaging her temples and glancing at the blonde from the corner of the eye. “Please, don’t imitate Yang... It’s bad enough I have to deal with an overgrown child every day.”

“Hey, who are you calling ‘child’?!” she protests with an angry pout, faking annoyance.

The faunus rolls her eyes. “No one, no one…”

Phoebe covers her mouth to contain her snicker, and even Damon’s lip starts twitching involuntarily, to Yang’s huge satisfaction. They’re wearing their own clean clothes now, since Yang made sure to put them where they could find them after she woke up. She refrains from saying anything about the overwhelmingly adorable predicament she found the both of them in this morning, having ditched the separate beds to cuddle together on a single mattress. Not because she doesn’t want to tease them, but because for them it’s probably not even a reason to be embarrassed about, since Phoebe even explained to her that they’d been sleeping together their entire lives. Old habits die hard, it seems.

It was cute as fucking hell though, and Yang made sure to burn the sight into her memory.

As they enter the house, the little girl puts her hands behind her head and hums. “I thought it was some kind of lovers code or something. Y’know, to let the other know it’s you who’s calling.”

Yang nods aggressively, gesturing to the girl while glancing at her wife. “See? Even the kid gets it.”

“It’s not a lovers code if you do it just to get on my nerves,” Blake points out sharply after she closes the door behind Damon.

“It is _precisely_ because I do it to get on your nerves, honey,” she retorts, giving her wife an inviting wink.

The kitty’s only response is to stick out her tongue in Yang’s direction, causing the blonde to smirk in victory. They may still have some big things to discuss, but it’s great to be back at their usual give-and-take. She really couldn’t live without it at this point...

“Anyway,” Phoebe says out loud as she leans back against the back of the couch, demanding their full attention, “you deserve that little punishment for lying to us.”

Their playful demeanor vanishes all of a sudden. Yang looks at her wife with a furrowed brow, having no clue as to what the girl is talking about, but Blake looks back and shrugs just as confused. “When did we lie to you?” Yang asks, honestly curious. They may have omitted a few things here and there, for the sake of the kids, but she doesn’t remember any particular lie, especially one they could uncover by themselves.

Damon is the one to step forward, fidgeting and looking at them with a strange look in his eyes. “Is it true?” he asks meekly. “Was it your team that defeated the Grimm Queen at the end of the war?”

…

Yang looks at her wife like a deer caught in the headlights, and by the way the faunus stares back, with her ears flat against her head and her mouth set in a straight line, it’s clear that she wasn’t expecting that of all topics to be brought up either. And yet, it’s obvious from whom they may have gotten that information... With an exasperated sigh, Yang turns to the boy. “Did Aster tell you that?”

“She did,” he slowly nods.

“That girl…” Yang groans, facepalming with her robot hand. It seems like the little imp has spilled the beans…

They seriously need to have a conversation with Bas about her daughter. They can’t blame the man for telling his family the truth about the end of the war, since they also told their own families, but the girl really needs to be more mindful about keeping secrets. What was she thinking, telling a couple of random kids she’s just met? She never told any of her previous friends —as far as Yang knows—, so why now? Why them?

It isn’t really that serious, she supposes… since no one would believe a single word they said anyway, but still.

“H-Hey, hey, hold on,” Phoebe cuts in, stepping away from the couch, “so it’s true?! Was it really you?!”

“The end of the war was a result of the combined effort of _everyone_ involved, Huntsmen and military alike,” Blake steps forward as well with her arms crossed in an attempt to do some damage control, glancing briefly in Yang’s direction. “We were all part of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you delivered the final blow, didn’t you?” the girl points an accusing finger at them, clearly overexcited by the new info.

“Aster said that her father guided your team to the Queen’s castle on a secret mission while the rest of the army held the Grimm horde back,” Damon adds, his gaze switching nervously between the two women. “That you had some kind of… weapon to defeat her.”

…

…

Ah, fuck it.

Yang puts her hands on her waist and takes a long and tired breath. “It’s true...”

As she expected, Blake immediately shoots her a distressed look. “Yang!”

She shrugs, making a complicated expression. “What? There’s no point in hiding it, they already know,” she quickly lifts a finger in Phoebe’s direction, pursing her lips, “which by the way, doesn’t mean we _lied_. We said we were war veterans, and that much is true. The rest is a— uh… _was_ a secret.”

The little girl throws her hands in the air, baring her fangs infuriated. “The question is why?! You’re, like, the greatest heroes of _all time_?! And _no one_ knows?! WHY?!”

Yang lifts her hands as a barrier unconsciously, which is weird considering she’s just facing a kid venting her disbelief at them, but it’s incredible how much fire the little faunus has stored in such a small package. “Phoebe, relax, it’s not _that_ big of a deal.”

“I-It’s not that big—? _It’s not that_ —?!” she starts pacing around, breathing heavily and tugging at her own hair. “This is nuts…”

Damon is at her side in an instant, rubbing her back with a worried look. “Slow breaths sis, slow breaths… In and out...” he whispers in a calm manner —or as calm as he can manage— as his sister takes huge mouthfuls of air following his instructions, then he turns his head to look at the two adults when the girl’s hyperventilation recedes, his round green eyes begging for answers. “Why keep it secret though? If you— If you really... saved the world,” it seems hard for him to even form the sentence, like his little mind is trying its hardest to grasp the seriousness of that statement, “shouldn’t the people know? Why is there nothing written about you in the text books?”

Sighing in defeat, Blake crouches next to the kids to put a hand on the girl’s back and make sure she’s alright. “It’s just… We didn’t want to be the center of attention. The whole war was _so much more_ than just our team, so much conflict and suffering... And we would’ve never managed to get through it all by ourselves,” she explains, closing her eyes and dropping her ears. “Even if we did deliver the finishing blow, we played a minuscule part in the whole conflict. It wouldn’t have been right to get all the merits.”

“Which we would have, to be honest. No matter how you look at it, people all over Remnant would’ve gone crazy over a story like that. Four unknown Huntresses entering the castle of the Mistress of all Grimm and vanishing her from existence during the climax of the last battle, turning the tide in humanity’s favor?” Yang further elaborates, blurting the last part in a dramatic tone. “It would’ve overshadowed the efforts of the common soldiers and all the other Huntsmen that fought in that hell for six months. And that’s not something we were willing to accept."

"And... also because the thought of being _that_ kind of celebrity is just frightening," Blake adds with a grimace.

Yang smirks. "Also that. Can you imagine not being able to walk around without having to stop at every minute to sign autographs?"

"Ugh… It’s awkward enough that people can recognize my face, I don’t know how Weiss endures it."

To be fair, the former heiress has always reveled in the attention of others, although that ‘others’ has become extremely more selective over the course of the years. The SDC president still didn’t mind being in the center of attention, but she only truly reveled when those ‘others’ were the ones she held dear.

“Amazing…” Damon takes it all in, his expression frozen in sheer fascination. "S-So… who knows the truth?"

Not many people outside of their close circles, actually. Yang takes a finger to her chin as she recounts the rare few that know what really happened at the end of the war. "Well, our families, some of our friends, Bas and his family, the Headmistress of Beacon Academy, the General of the Atlas military… maybe a few high rank officers beneath him,” she looks at him, smiling with an air of complicity, “and now you two.”

The boy’s eyes start shining as he holds his hands to his chest, like he’s just been giving the most precious of treasures. “And now _us_.”

“T-This is insane,” Phoebe murmurs, finally recovering from her stupor before turning to her twin. “I thought she was just messing with us...”

“Me too, but... now we know! We know something that no one else knows!” he exclaims excitedly, jumping in place. “We’re part of the secret now!”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah! Now _we_ know too!” she exclaims back, joining hands with her brother as she suddenly realizes the extent of the truth they have just discovered.

Blake arches a brow at the twins, patting them both on the shoulder. “Which means you have to keep it a secret and not tell _anyone_ , okay? It’s very important.”

“That’s right,” Yang joins in, stepping next to the trio and making an exaggerated scowl. “We’re trusting you big time here, kids. You have to protect this secret with your lives!”

Both of them turn deadly serious in a second, look at each other and then mimic the action of zipping their lips and throwing them away.

“You can count on us, boss!” Phoebe blurts like she’s talking to a sergeant. “Right, bro?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Damon follows with pursed lips.

Truth be told, there is no real danger whatsoever, since textbooks these days are filled with the same version of the story and no one would take anything else seriously, especially from a couple of kids that weren’t even born at the time. Officially speaking, with the combined effort of the military and the Huntsmen groups, the army was able to clear a pathway through an ocean of Grimm for the atlesian flagship to get in shooting range. The Queen’s lair —and basically everything in a two-mile radius— was totally decimated under the battleship’s heavy artillery, putting an end to the war and sentencing the Grimm to a not too distant extinction in the absence of their mistress.

Of course, Salem was long gone by that point... and team RWBY were able to enjoy the fireworks from a safe distance.

With a satisfied nod, Yang says, "Good, that's what I wanted to hear. Now—”

"However!" the girl quickly interrupts, eyeing her brother with a toothy grin. “Our silence has a _price_... doesn’t it, Damon?”

When she leans against him to whisper something in his ear, her twin starts nodding vigorously, unable to contain his giggles. “Tee-hee! It does, Phoebe!”

Finding their act humorous and harmless, Yang decides to play along and jumps back in fake surprise. “B-Blackmail?! You fiends! What do you want to keep your treacherous mouths shut?!”

Perhaps it’s the fact that she’s spent the last twelve hours struggling with her own doubts about the whole adoption thing, but for a second she imagines the kids asking for the couple to let them stay with them forever. It’s a fleeting thought, of course. Neither of the twins has so much as suggested the idea of being adopted, and Yang doubts they’d even do it at all for the duration of their stay. They can probably imagine the dilemma the couple would face if presented with a choice of that weight.

She’s quickly proven right by the girl’s response. “We want to know more!”

“You can leave the scary stuff beside, but you have to tell us more!” the boy agrees.

Of course… Because what else would they want?

“Well, well, well... Aren’t you the sly little rascals?” she declares with an appreciative raise of her eyebrows to hide her inner thoughts, before turning to the faunus to ask for her consent. “Blake?”

Her wife, who’s watched the entire exchange crouched beside the kids with an amused smile, looks back at her and shrugs in surrender. “I guess we can… tell them the basic details.”

“YAY!” they both shout joyfully in unison.

“Okay, okay, you win. But how about we talk and fill our bellies at the same time? I’m starving,” the blonde suggests, tapping her stomach while she turns to walk to the kitchen.

“The stew must be almost ready, come on,” Blake concurs, beckoning the kids to follow.

Although they look slightly annoyed for not getting the story right away, neither of the twins object to their proposition. It seems that the prospect of a delicious lunch is more powerful than the thrill of hearing war stories.

As the four enter the kitchen, Yang starts summing up a little breakdown of the ‘secret mission’ that changed their lives forever.

  


* * *

  


“You’re kidding, right?” Phoebe asks as she moves a small box aside from the big pile that’s in front of her. “Why would you summon those god-dudes without asking the last question to the lamp lady, knowing that it’s going to disappear? Seems like such a huge waste...”

Yang protests from behind a mountain of junk, her spider web-covered head popping over it to give the girl an offended look. “Hey, come on, we were in a hurry! It’s not like we could stop for a minute and think about what to ask.”

“‘Hey Jinn, how do I get rich?’, duh! You don’t even have to think about that one!” she growls while putting a plastic bag on the floor. “Ughhh, just thinking about all the possibilities pisses me off…”

“Weeell, imagine if they ask the question and then they find out they can’t summon the god-dudes because the lamp has no more battery left, and they have to wait another hundred years!” Damon speculates as he playfully balances a small cardboard box on his head next to her. “Now _that_ would’ve been bad.”

“Huh, that makes… kinda sense,” she concedes after careful thinking.

“Exactly! We didn’t really think about it like that but, yeah, we had some doubts about overusing the Relic’s powers to our own benefit,” the woman explains, glancing over the mountain again before she notices the boy. “Damon be careful, please!”

“Okaaay.”

Her twin immediately puts the box down, next to the old chests, bags and cabinets they’ve been inspecting for the last twenty minutes or so and carries on with their search. The afternoon glow enters through the only window in the storeroom, casting a faint golden curtain over the entire room and causing the hundreds of dust particles suspended in the air to gleam like tiny little stars. 

Right after they’d finished lunch, Yang had told her wife that she wanted to search for her old engineer tools in the storeroom. The black-haired faunus had arched an eyebrow at that, but ultimately said nothing against it and just let the blonde to her own devices as she opened her laptop to keep working (what Blake actually does when she works, Phoebe has no idea, but she supposes it must be some kind of office paperwork mumbo jumbo). And since Aster’s dad had forced her to stay the afternoon doing her overdue homework, the twins also had nothing to do, so they decided to help Yang out, if only to keep squeezing sweet sweet info out of the woman.

True to their word, the couple had told them a little bit about the true end of the Grimm War, and honestly, it was quite the story... Apparently, magic is real, or was at some point. And not magic like the crazy stuff some Huntsmen can do with their Semblances, but real magic, like anything-you-can-imagine kind of magic. But, if what Yang and Blake say is to be believed, all the magic disappeared from Remnant along with those four weird artifacts their team carried, taken away by the, huh, ‘gods’ of light and darkness. Also yeah, gods were real, wouldn’t you believe it? And they abandoned our world... forever. She’s not sure if that’s actually a good thing or not, but according to the two women they’d been absent for thousands of years already, so… good riddance, she supposes. It’s your loss, jerks.

And then there was the Queen and the Wizard, a couple of immortal beings that fought against each other over the course of a thousand years, one trying to destroy civilization and the other trying to protect it in a never-ending push and pull. That being said, both of them died when Yang, Blake and their friends managed to summon the gods after fighting through hell, and it seems that they actually made peace with each other at the very end, which is a bit corny and… anticlimactic, but that was probably the best possible outcome.

That was basically the gist of it. They didn’t tell them the full story, since that would take days… or weeks, according to Blake. The twins didn’t know how their team acquired the Relics, how they got tangled in that whole mess to begin with, and basically nothing prior to the Vesper March campaign. But all in all, it had been an _awesome_ tale, the kind of tale that makes Phoebe regret with all of her heart not having been born thirty years earlier. She would’ve made an awesome Huntress, she’s sure of that, and together with her brother they would’ve been unbeatable… The real Terror Twins!

But hey, at least they don’t have to live in a world under the constant threat of Grimm attacks so… silver linings and all that, huh?

“Oh, Yang! There’s another tool box here!” Damon suddenly yells, his head and arms stuck beneath a dusty old table close to one of the walls. “Nggh! Ngggggh! This one’s big and heavy! Ngggh!”

Phoebe turns to look at him, and cackles at the sight of her twin’s butt sticking out and the way he kicks back with his legs to drag the box out. “Teach it who’s boss, bro!”

This rallies him up even more and he starts kicking harder. “NGGGHH!”

“No, no, no, no, I’ll get it out!” the blonde comes from behind the pile of junk in a hurry, her white tank top covered in dust stains, and she kneels next to the boy, tapping him lightly on the back. “Come on, get out of there before you hurt yourself.”

Damon obeys and scurries out from under the table with his face entirely covered in dirt, bending over a little bit to watch as Yang takes his place.

“Let’s see,” the blonde shoves her scarred arm under the table, comically sticking out her tongue as she looks for the box. “Ah, there it is! Come here, you,” with one little pull, she effortlessly drags the large red metallic chest out of its hiding place. It’s not just the box though, there’s also a bag filled with books, folders and other smaller cardboard boxes on top of it.

Curious about their finding, Phoebe stands up and joins them. “Woah... that one’s really big.”

“Come on, open it,” her brother suggests, wiping his face with his forearm.

“Okay, okay. Here, hold this,” Yang says, passing the bag to Phoebe, who simply puts it on the floor unceremoniously.

The red chest hisses with a loud creak as the cover gets lifted, revealing an array of weird tools and gadgets that Phoebe can barely recognize, aside from some of the most common-looking. Wrenches in various sizes, screwdrivers, hammers... but also a bunch of L-shaped things, some sort of scissors that look like an alligator’s mouth, others that look like guns, and more. They found another box just a few minutes ago, but it was one quarter the size of this one, and that one contained almost exclusively nuts and bolts. If the appreciative giggle that Yang lets out is anything to go by, they’ve definitely hit the big prize with this one.

“Oh yes, this is exactly what I was looking for! Now if only my old schematics were still…” she mumbles under her breath, touching the underside of the chest’s cover.

“Your what?” Damon asks.

Before she has the chance to answer, something under the cover makes a clicking sound and a hidden compartment opens up, dropping a cloud of dust and a bunch of papers on top of the tools. Phoebe glances over the woman’s shoulder as she picks them all up and opens them, revealing a lot of weird colorless drawings of guns with far too many lines and words drawn all over them.

“My schematics!” she repeats triumphantly, before she takes one of the pages to show it more clearly to them. “They’re like, huh, an image guide that explains how each type of weapon is built, which are their components and all that. With this and a little bit of knowledge about weaponsmithing, you can disassemble and build almost anything.”

“Huh, neat,” Damon blurts, mildly impressed, before he wanders off to the side, his attention drawn to a few stacked boxes on top of a dresser.

“And why do you need this? Are you going to make some new weapons or something?” Phoebe wonders, honestly curious about the whole process. “Oh, oh! Are you gonna build yourself a new robot arm?!”

Huntsmen are supposed to build their own weapons, aren’t they? It makes sense that she would know how to do that sort of thing. 

The woman laughs her suggestions off with a wave of her golden hand. “I wish, but when it comes to this little baby I need a bit of help from the experts. Nah, I’m actually thinking about doing a little bit of tinkering in my spare time,” she assures her with a nonchalant shrug, “you know, between missions and all that.”

Phoebe raises an eyebrow, turning her head to take a look at the messy storeroom. "You mean we've been doing this for nearly half an hour and it's just… for a passtime?"

It's not _that_ underwhelming, really. She honestly thinks that tinkering with weapons has to be a very cool thing to do in your free time… when you don't live in a literal country paradise surrounded by miles and miles of beautiful meadows, that is. It may be the ignorant thoughts of someone who only knows life in the city, but she can’t understand how the woman doesn’t just go exploring around the village, or even beyond, and instead prefers to stay indoors hammering metals together.

Yang simply smiles apologetically, blushing a little. “Well… there’s not much to do here. Blake has a lot of books, but I’m not really the reading type, especially with the kind of books she enjoys.”

“What kind?” she wonders, cocking her head.

Yang merely responds with a condescending tone, “You’ll know when you get older…”

Huh, that is… mysterious. Phoebe can guess she’s probably talking about romance novels or something of that sort, and yup, those aren’t her preference either. She and her twin always enjoyed adventure stories, almost exclusively adventure stories!

“Whaaaat?!” Damon suddenly yells from the corner of the room, facing the stack of boxes. “How can you say there’s not much to do here when you have _this_?!”

The woman puts the papers down and turns to him with a questioning look. “Huh? W-What?”

He picks up one of the boxes —a big flat one the shape of a pizza box that seems to be pretty worn out— and blows the dust away, showing the flat side to them with a dorky smile on his face.

Phoebe’s eyes widen in shock, and she feels a sudden surge of excitement rising from the bottom of her belly, a feeling she’d missed for the last six months, a feeling she thought she’d never be able to enjoy again. It’s a ghost of the past, a remembrance of the good old days, a sliver of happier times…

There’s a world map imprinted on the box, and right at the top an inscription in big red letters that reads: REMNANT - THE GAME.

“No way! It isn’t—!” she shouts, hurrying to her twin’s side to make sure she’s not seeing things.

Damon nods furiously, swaying the box merrily in his hands. “Yes, yes it is!”

“Hey! I haven’t seen that in a long time!” Yang chimes in just as excitedly, glancing between the siblings. “You know the game?”

‘Knowing’ is a rather mild term to describe the history they have with that board game…

“Are you kidding?! We love it!” Phoebe exclaims, taking the box from her brother to inspect it closer. “We used to have a copy in our toy box back in the orphanage. It was everyone’s favourite board game by far.”

“We even had a small paper next to the toy box to make reservations!” Damon adds with a frustrated frown. “Like, everyone wanted to play so bad that we had to write our names on the paper and wait our turn. If you were unlucky you would have to wait for _hours_.”

The woman winces. “Wow, and I thought I liked it.”

“Why don’t you play then? In your spare time,” Phoebe points out.

“Well, I tried to get Blake to play with me a couple of times in the past, but it’s just not her thing… Besides, you can only enjoy the game to the fullest with four players soooo… yeah, not many chances for that.”

The kids never had a problem finding two more friends to play with, for obvious reasons, but it makes sense that Yang has it tougher to gather people to play if both she and her wife travel so much due to their jobs. It’s a shame...

“We’re four now…” Damon casually comments, trying —and failing— to be subtle.

Phoebe smirks mischievously, sharing a look with him. “We’re four now.”

The woman stares at them in silence for a second, until her lips slowly curl into a fierce grin. “Do you, by any chance, want to give it a shot? I warn you kids, I’m a _master_ of this game with years of experience. Trust me, some of Remnant’s most powerful individuals have fallen under my superb tactical skills.”

The girl is confident enough in her own abilities to not be intimidated so easily, so she puffs out her chest and glares defiantly at the blonde. “Oh, really? Well I think you’re all bite and no bark, ma’am!”

...

“I… I don’t think that’s how it goes, sis,” Damon mutters, shattering the atmosphere.

The sound of Yang’s unrestrained snicker fills the room and Phoebe’s cheeks turn cherry red as she stomps her foot on the floor in sheer embarrassment. “Ugh! W-Whatever, I’m challenging you, Yang! Let’s go downstairs and settle this right now!”

“Okay, okay…” the woman takes a moment to regain her breath, and then stands up with the bigger toolbox stuffed under her arm and the smaller one they found earlier on the other. “That’s fine by me, but Blake… That’s a different story.”

“Do you think she won’t want to play even if we’re four?” the boy asks worriedly as the three make their way out of the storeroom.

The blonde grimaces in response. “I think it’ll be pretty darn hard...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first this was going to be four scenes long, but at the end the chapter turned out to be longer than I expected, so I divided it in two.
> 
> Good thing is I have half of the next one already written ^^U


	9. Ep I: Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm writing this, my country has stablished a quarantine in response to the pandemic like many others, soooo I guess I'm gonna have plenty of time to write these coming days... So there's that.
> 
> Let's just hope this whole thing is over as soon as possible. No matter where you live, please, take all the precautions you need to prevent infection and stay safe! Good wishes for everyone!

“Why did I let you convince me so easily?” Blake asks with a blank stare on her face as she awaits on her seat for them to finish setting up the board on the table of the living room.

“Because there’s nothing as kind and selfless as making a child smile!” Phoebe chants while she shuffles each of the four decks.

“Because we’re adorable!” her twin sings as he sets the world map on the table.

“Because you love me,” Yang declares from the opposite seat while she prepares the miniatures and troop markers, batting her eyelashes in a coquettish manner.

Blake grumbles under her breath with a deep frown. “You’re a trio of cheaters…”

Contrary to what Yang predicted, convincing her wife to join the game had been incredibly easy. Maybe the fact that the woman hadn’t even had enough time to start working since they finished lunch helped a little bit... But seriously, all it took was two children and an overgrown child making puppy faces to guilt-trip the black-haired faunus into shutting her laptop and take the fourth seat in their soon-to-be battle of the ages.

Phoebe doesn’t particularly enjoy crushing a relatively new player to the game under her shoe, but with her wife on the board Yang might be prone to make more mistakes. It might as well not affect her game at all, or worse, it could make her focus and be more ruthless... but she’s willing to take that chance. In war there's no victory without risk!

“Is it really too late to pull back?” the golden-eyed faunus pleads again, dropping her ears in a pitiful attempt to appeal to their good heart.

“Yup, totally late!” Damon chirps, destroying her hopes in cold blood and causing the woman to roll her eyes and groan in misery.

Phoebe pats her on the shoulder after she’s done with the shuffling. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Blake sighs in resignation, but probably realizing that any escape attempt would be useless, she settles for getting more comfortable on the table. “Alright, alright... let’s get this over with. Are we ready yet?”

“The decks are shuffled, all that remains is to choose kingdoms so that we can sit accordingly,” Yang explains to her wife, then suddenly shoots out her arm in a golden flash and snatches the blue-coloured deck from under Phoebe’s nose, making the girl jump back in surprise. “I call dibs on Mistral!”

“You pick Mistral almost every time, Yang...” Blake comments with a deadpan look.

The blonde raises her chin in a dignified manner. “Well, I need it now more than ever. I don’t want either of these goblins to catch me unprepared.”

“M-Mistral is your main, I guess,” Phoebe deduces with a wary expression, still recovering from the jumpscare.

The woman nods all toffee-nosed while inspecting her deck. “Yup, guess I have a thing for edgy shadow ninjas,” she admits, throwing a suspicious look to her wife, who simply coughs into her hand and glances away, “and I’ll let you know that there’s only one person in the world that can beat me when I’m using it. So, no hard feelings kids, but… fat chance for you.”

Phoebe obviously doesn’t know who she’s talking about —even if she’s talking about a real person at all—, and she doesn’t care in the slightest. She silently picks up the white-coloured deck, stands up and walks up to sit on her designated position at Yang’s right, displaying an air of superiority. “Then you better get ready to add one more to that list,” she declares, tossing back her raven mane for good measure, “‘cause when I play as the icy motherland, I _never_ lose.”

Yang raises an amused eyebrow, shuffling her deck even though the girl has already done it. “Ohhhhh… Someone likes big guns and robots, huh?”

“I like strength and order, you undisciplined _rogue_!” she states in a low-pitched tone with her back straightened, doing her best imitation of the standard old grumpy general that appears in basically every war story she’s ever seen.

“Oh, gosh… Weiss would love this one,” the blonde chuckles, turning to her wife. Blake says nothing, and simply shakes her head with a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

As Phoebe makes sure that her deck isn’t missing any cards, she looks at her brother, who’s eyeing the remaining two decks like they owe him money. “So, bro-bro, which one are you gonna pick? You’ve been denied your precious Mistral.”

He blushes slightly, looking at Yang from the corner of his eye. “U-Uhh…”

She has to say something in Yang’s favor, and that’s that despite proclaiming Mistral as her key to victory, she looks instantly remorseful after making eye contact with the boy and actually tries to hand over the blue deck with a genuine smile. “Is it your main too? Here, take it, I don’t really mind.”

Damon, being the softie that he is, immediately feels awful for making Yang give up her deck. He dismisses the offering, waving wildly with his hands. “N-No, it’s okay, really! I’m not nearly as good as Phoebe anyway, I can play any of the other two just fine.”

He certainly isn’t as competitive as her, that’s a given, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad at the game... Even if his victory score was always on the lower side, especially compared to hers, he was still one of the most consistently resilient players back at the orphanage. He didn’t usually win, but there wasn’t a game in which he went down easily, no matter what kingdom he played. That has to account for something.

Yang pulls back her arm, but she still doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he assures her with a hearty nod, picking up the two decks and turning to the adult faunus. “Which one do you want to use, Blake?”

“Pick whichever you like, I don’t really have a preference,” Blake says with an apologetic smile and a shrug. “It’s likely to make little difference.”

Damon frowns at her statement and hums for a moment, looking between the three like he’s considering something.

“What are _you_ planning?” Phoebe asks, squinting her eyes with a suspicious look.

“You and Yang are pro players, and you’re both using your mains. I don’t mind either of the other two, but it seems a little unfair to just let Blake play with the leftovers against you,” he then turns back to the golden-eyed faunus, smiling brightly. “How about I help you out?”

The woman is visibly taken by surprise, her cat ears pointing straight to the ceiling. “Help me?”

“Yeah!” Damon nods. “Let’s see... you know the rules?”

She taps a finger to her chin, furrowing her brow. “Yes, I think I remember the basics from seeing Yang and the others play... You have cards that represent soldiers to attack the other kingdoms, and then cards that have like, special effects, right? I remember they could use some of them directly from their hand, and others were like traps, I think.”

“That’s right, you actually know a lot!” he compliments, making the woman grin proudly.

“There are also Grimm cards, which are kinda like troop cards but you can’t control them besides pointing them in the direction of your enemy and let them wreck anything that stands in their way,” Yang explains with a grimace. “They’re quite a gamble since they can backfire if you have bad luck.”

“But the most important thing,” Phoebe adds, playing with a Beowulf miniature in her hands, “is that you have to know how your kingdom works to use its strong points to your advantage.”

Blake hums in understanding. “I see...”

“That’s why I want to help you,” Damon chimes in again, “I can give you little tips to use your cards. I-If you want, of course.”

She turns to the other two players with a questioning look. “Would that be okay?”

Taking into consideration that they basically forced the poor woman to join them in a game she doesn’t really master, it seems only fair to offer her a little bit of help. To have Damon help her also means that it’s easier for them to come up with strategies against her and Yang, but she’s willing to let it slide.

“That’s fine with me!” Yang confirms with a thumbs up, oddly eager to have two opponents ganging up on her.

“I’m okay, too,” Phoebe shrugs. “I’m gonna win anyway.”

The faunus woman snorts, amused by her confidence, and turns to Damon once more. “Very well then, which deck should I use?”

The boy instantly sits at Blake’s left and picks up the orange deck, handing her the remaining green one. “You should play as Vale, it’s the most balanced and easy to use for beginners. And I’m gonna play as Vacuo!” he exclaims, stretching the neck of his t-shirt so it covers his mouth entirely, mimicking the desert scavengers troop card from Vacuo. “The sun will set over the dunes once more!”

His display stokes the fires of Phoebe’s competitive nature. She looks around, suddenly realizing that Yang’s cool jacket is conveniently hung on her chair, and pulls from the top so she can at least cover her torso with it, although the rest of the jacket is left hanging awkwardly from the seat back. All in all, it gives her a more General-like appearance, she thinks. “That oasis and all of its resources will soon be mine, sand-dweller!”

“Come and take them if you can, you…, uh, y-you silly rich!” he blurts in a poor attempt at a retort, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yang slams her hands together, rubbing them in glee and anticipation. “Ho-ho, alright, let’s do this! You go first, Damon!”

And so the game starts!

Her twin draws his first five cards and quickly makes his move with a determined grin. “I pay one treasure point and call the ‘Foragers from the Deep Desert’,” he puts down the card and the little troop marker next to his capital city, while also moving a plastic coin from his counter to the little chest with all the spare coins. Since it's the first turn, he only has one treasure point to spend, so that’s all he can do for now.

“Huh, that can be troublesome,” Yang mumbles with her head propped on her hand.

“What does it do?” Blake asks, leaning over to look at the card.

“They collect resources each turn they’re on the board, giving him an additional treasure point to play his cards,” the blonde elaborates.

“Oh, that sounds useful.”

“But since he owns Vacuo and that’s a Vacuo-based card, he gets a bonus thanks to his kingdom’s ability. Soooo that means two points instead of one,” she adds, pursing her lips at the kid. “Enjoy them, little rascal, they’ll be gone soon!”

“Wait a minute, isn’t that… unfair? How come he gets a bonus for playing his own cards?” Blake questions, looking slightly puzzled at the apparent OP-ness of Damon’s deck.

Phoebe interjects, tapping the top of her deck with her fingers. “All four decks are made up of kingdom-based cards, neutral cards and Grimm cards. Vacuo has the least kingdom-based cards of all, so its ability kinda makes up for that. Besides, there are cards that let you steal from your opponent’s hand, so you might end up using that card yourself.”

“I see… That makes sense,” Blake whispers with a furrowed brow, like she’s really trying to get a grasp of the gameplay.

Phoebe is almost certain the woman isn’t faking interest just to humor them. There has been nothing about Blake’s behaviour and attitude towards them that could make her believe she’s anything but honest and truthful at all times… besides the, well, whole thing about being the saviors of Remnant and all that.

“I can’t do anything else,” Damon says, putting his hand down and dragging his chair to get closer to Blake. “It’s your turn!”

“Okay, let’s see,” the woman nods, and draws five cards from her deck as well, then shows them to the boy. Before he says anything, she points to one of them. “I can use this one, right? It costs only one point.”

The boy purses his lips, looking at each of her cards. “Hmmm, you could, but in the first turn it’s always better to put some troops on the board to start building up your forces,” he suggests.

“Okay, so… this one then?” she asks, pointing to the card next to it.

He nods eagerly. “Yup, better choice. And since you’re playing Vale, all of your ground units get a resistance bonus as long as they’re standing within your territory, thanks to Vale’s natural defenses.”

“Then… I pay one point to call a ‘Fusilier Squad’, and I place them… here,” she picks up a troop marker and places it on the north, in the middle of the Forever Fall forest. “And that’s it, I think.”

“Yeah, good start,” the boy praises with a gente smile, then withdraws his chair to its original position.

The Fusilier Squad is a neutral card, so its base stats are pretty average, but when played by Vale any ground troop can become a pain in the butt to deal with. Not like Phoebe’s afraid of it or anything; if Atlas is good at something, it’s at shooting things into oblivion. With some luck, maybe Yang will try to take the squad down, so she doesn’t even have to dirty her own hands.

“Alright, my turn!” the blonde exclaims while drawing her first hand. “It’s been so long…”

“How long?” Phoebe asks out of curiosity.

“I think… four, maybe five years?” Blake ventures as she plays lazily with the troop marker she just placed on the board.

Phoebe winces. “Wow, _that_ much?”

Maybe for the adults it’s not that long, but for her it’s like half the time she’s been alive!

This plays in her favour however, since it hasn’t been that long since the last time _she_ played, so she should be better prepared to kick their butts. In retrospect, these last six months she’s been living on the streets with her brother don’t seem like too much time, at least in comparison. But for them it was, of course. It most certainly was.

“I told you, not many chances to play… And to be honest, I didn’t even remember we had it in the storeroom with all that old junk. It’s been a pleasant surprise,” she shrugs her shoulders, still holding the five cards in her hand. “Anyway, less chit-chat and more battling! Damon, prepare yourself!” she shouts, pointing a metallic finger in the boy’s direction.

The victim grunts in distress. “M-Me? Already?”

“It’s nothing personal kiddo, but your foragers are a more immediate concern than Blake’s squad,” she slams a card and a troop marker on Mistral’s west coast. “I call the ‘Shadowblade Assassins’, whose ability allows me to eliminate a cost-1 enemy troop the moment they enter the battlefield!”

Wow, it’s amazing how this woman can go from ‘It’s ok, you can use my deck if you want, sweetie’ to ‘I’m gonna ruin this boy’s whole career’.

“Oh, come on…” Damon pouts, slumping on the table after removing the troop marker, while Blake gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder.

‘Oh, come on’ indeed... Those assassins are one of the most annoying openers of the game, and Phoebe knows them well. She’s lost a lot —and she means _a lot_ — of first turn atlesian knights to that blasted card. Even during mid-game, when you already have your troops surrounding the enemy walls, Mistral can just pull out two of those cards and blast half of your meat shields away, leaving you completely exposed for a counter offensive. 

At least the player doesn’t benefit from Mistral’s ability to double the rewards after a victory, since the assassins’ effect doesn’t count as a battle. Now that would be OP...

“Your turn, Phoebe. Let’s see what you have,” Yang says with a defiant look.

She wordlessly proceeds to draw five cards and is rewarded with an ‘Atlesian Knight Squad’, two ‘Beowulf Packs’ and an ‘Atlesian Paladin’. Due to the card cost, she could only play the knights right now… if it wasn’t for the fifth and last card drawn.

The girl smiles wickedly and slams it down on the table. “I use ‘Bountiful Treasury’, which costs zero points!”

“Aw cr— shucks!” Yang blows air through her nose, obviously aware of what that card means.

Her twin groans, rolling his eyes. “Seriously? How do you manage to get that on your first turn _every_ single time?”

“Just accept the might of Atlas, don’t question it, _peasant_ ,” she glowers at him, faking a spit to the floor.

“Hm!”

“It’s uncanny just how accurate that is for some atlesians...” Blake comments off-handedly with a grimace. “Anyway, what does that one do?”

Like a fish in the water, Phoebe looks at her from the corner of the eye, like royalty regarding someone inferior. She has a lot of fun playing this type of character. “Atlas’ incredible economy allows me to gain two additional treasure points this turn in exchange for not gaining any in the next, which in turn lets me call the ‘Atlesian Paladin’!”

“And just like that she has a cost-3 unit on the board…” Yang lets out a long sigh.

“Prepare to face one the most powerful war machines in the story of Remnant!” the girl shouts excitedly, raising a fist in the air.

“You know, we took one of those down once, when we were teenagers.”

…

Phoebe blinks, suddenly snapping out of character. “What?”

“A paladin,” the blonde clarifies. “It was pretty easy.”

“No, I heard you, but… you’re kidding, right?”

“She’s not being serious,” Blake cuts in blatantly, and for a moment Phoebe allows herself to breathe again at the obvious joke, but the faunus woman grins and goes on to say, “it was actually a little bit hard.”

This makes her grunt in frustration. “Oh, come on! Just _what_ haven’t you done?!”

Yang just stares back at her with a self-satisfied smirk, her head propped on her hand, no doubt finding the whole situation incredibly amusing. “I guess we’ve had a hectic life, huh?”

“You don’t say!” Phoebe slams a hand on the table for good measure, in case her tone isn’t sarcastic enough.

“We really should expect anything at this point...” her twin chuckles meekly, fumbling with his cards. “I’m still trying to get my head around all of it.”

Blake rubs his back comfortingly. “It’s understandable… But for the record, you’re both taking it surprisingly well. I was afraid you’d, I don’t know, start acting differently around us.”

She did say that they didn’t want to be the center of attention, and Phoebe... kind of gets behind that. Movie stars, singers and all those celebrities are constantly swarmed by fans wherever they go, so imagine how it would be for the literal saviors of the world. They wouldn’t be able to live in a humble village house like this without worrying about people knocking at their door at every hour.

It makes sense that they were dubious about letting the twins know the truth...

“Well,” Damon starts, staring back at the woman with a toothy grin, “we already thought you were the coolest people we’ve ever met. Knowing the truth only makes us think that even more!”

Yang whistles. “Woah, the _coolest_ ,” she stresses that word like she’s tasting it in her mouth. “I’ve been told that I’m awesome, great, amazing and all sorts of nice things but, like, the coolest? That’s just on another level,” she regards her wife with a dazzled look. “You’ve ever been called the coolest, Blake?”

The faunus shakes her head, slightly more flustered. “No, I don’t think I have.”

“Not like there’s too much competition anyway,” Phoebe feels the need to add with a roguish grin. “We’ve spent our entire lives cooped up inside the orphanage with only the staff as reference figures. I mean, even a second-rate soldier would be the coolest person we’d have ever met in that environment.”

Much to her satisfaction —and even though she knows the woman is just playing along—, Yang purses her lips like an offended child. “Oh, come on girl, don’t burst my bubble like that!”

“You really wanna be the coolest person I’ve ever met?” she asks with a dangerous glint in her eye, receiving a hearty nod from the blonde. “Then stop all this chat and defeat me, if you can!”

“That sounds like a bet, sis,” Damon adds with a crafty look.

“Huh?”

“Are you saying you’ll admit the winner is the coolest person you’ve ever met?” he asks, giving his eyebrows a subtle wiggle.

Phoebe freezes in place. “T-That’s, huh…”

By the way Yang impishly smirks from ear to ear, it’s clear that things just got deadly serious. “Well, well, well... seems like we’re fighting for the big prize now, guys,” she says, jabbing a big metallic finger into Phoebe’s side teasingly. “You better get ready Phoebe, ‘cause I’m not just gonna make you admit that I’m the coolest, I’m gonna record it on my scroll and use it as a ringtone for the rest of the month.”

Even Blake pulls a face at that one. “Oh, dear…”

Phoebe gulps, absolutely dreadful of that outcome, but manages to keep her cool and put on an adamant expression. “The only thing I’m gonna get ready for is kicking all of your butts, now let’s keep playing!”

In front of her, Damon hides his twisted treacherous intentions behind a sheepish smile, while Yang at her left makes no effort to conceal her smug chagrin and her own evil —and embarrassing— plans.

The stakes have been raised. This is no longer a game...

The battle goes on for a long time, Phoebe doesn’t know for how much exactly, but she’s certain that they’ve been at it for more than an hour. To her surprise, Yang’s statement hasn’t turned out to be a bluff. In the dozen or so turns that have passed, the woman has managed to build a force able to keep her attacks at bay, taking advantage of Mistral’s various removing effect cards to control her numbers and choosing her units accordingly. Right now, Phoebe controls six units of ‘Atlesian Knights’ and three ‘Atlesian Paladins’ on the frontline, engaged in battle on Argus against Yang’s three ‘Fusilier Squads’, two groups of ‘Mercenaries from Shikimi’ and a ‘King Taijitu’. The girl also has two ‘Light Cruisers’ and a ‘Battleship’ waiting in the distance for an opening, since they can’t get any closer due to Yang’s ‘Battering Ram Railgun’ sitting behind her lines, threatening any flying unit that’s foolish enough to get in range.

As if that wasn’t enough, she also commands a ‘Giant Nevermore’ that is two turns away from reaching Mistral from the east side of the kingdom, out of the Railgun’s range. She’s really close to victory…

Damon and Blake, for their part, have been playing a defensive game the entire time, both amassing their forces in medium-sized blobs near their city walls to drive their enemies back, and attacking each other every now and then. She refers to that as attacking for the sake of the game rules, because sending such small units can hardly be called an attack… More like playfully poking at one another, actually.

Of course, if playing defensively was an effective way to win, everyone would do that, but that’s not how the game works. So even if they were able to repel most of Yang and Phoebe's offensives, their attacks still damaged their walls, slowly nibbling at their defense points. The result was that all of their walls were on a similar health level, but the two most offensive players ended up with more treasure points and were able to build bigger and more threatening armies, since they were constantly engaging in combat.

Blake and Damon aren’t real threats, but they’re part of her plans to achieve victory.

Aside from the main battle, Yang is currently sitting at Blake’s backyard with three ‘Ornithopter Gunship’s that she chose to relocate from Argus’ backline in order to get past Vale’s mountain ranges and flank her wife’s ‘Bullheads’. Meanwhile, Phoebe is knocking at Damon’s doorstep with two ‘Giant Blind Worms’, which suffer no penalty from her twin’s pesky ‘Sandstorm’ trap card effect thanks to their passive ability to dig underground.

This is a war on two fronts. Whoever wins at Argus will be able to deliver the killing blow to the enemy’s walls, and whoever manages to conquer any of the other two kingdoms first will gain the upper hand by claiming all of their resources and units.

Phoebe can’t afford to lose, not when her very pride is at risk!

It’s Damon’s turn once again, and her twin is looking dreadful at which could be —if she gets her way— his last turn alive. He takes a long breath to calm himself, with his hand hovering over the almost depleted stack of cards, like he’s praying to some higher power to give him exactly what he needs.

“Trust in the heart of the cards, bro!” she teases, leaning over the table and giggling her eyebrows before her twin shushes her. He’s on the ropes, and he knows it.

After drawing his card, he silently ponders over his hand for a few seconds before he ends up making a pout. “I have nothing to take care of your worms…”

“Welp, that’s a shame. You’re going to defend your walls with the raiders, right?” Phoebe asks him out of obligation even though she knows the answer is yes, since doing otherwise would result in his instant loss. The worms’ passive ability also makes them strong against ground units, so his three ‘Raider Vanguard Groups’ are at a disadvantage against them, but it’s the only thing he can do to stay alive.

“Yeah, two raider groups will fight this one, and the third group will fight the other,” he announces with a finger pointed at the miniatures.

That’s the most efficient move right now, and the one she expected. By dividing his forces in two, he may lower his chances of killing any of the worms, but simply by engaging them both in combat he prevents them from moving until one side is completely destroyed. Since he’s going to spend his turn trying to deal damage —which is almost certain to fail— and she’ll be spending hers killing off the raiders, the worms won’t reach the walls until her next turn. So he’s basically bought himself one more turn.

“Come one, raiders!” he rolls the dice, but the result is not even close to what he needs to kill the worms. The Grimm take some damage, but it’s not nearly enough. “Aw…”

“It was worth a shot,” Yang says, smiling sympathetically.

“But wait, I’m not done yet!” he announces, placing two cards on the table and two new miniatures in the middle of the sea, close to Vacuo’s coast. “I pay six treasure points to summon two ‘Griffon Hordes’, and their target is Atlas!” he then puts yet another card on the table, leaving him with only one in hand. “And I spend my remaining two points to use ‘Joyful Celebrations’! Even in the middle of war, the citizens of Vacuo throw big parties all throughout the kingdom to raise their morale, which means that I automatically pass all of my Grimm rolls this turn!”

Huh, so he basically summons those two hordes with no risk for himself whatsoever…

“Ohh, that’s nifty!” the blonde comments, acknowledging the card combo.

Phoebe shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal, I have enough firepower in my arsenal to bring those ugly birds down.”

She has a ‘Heavy Cruiser’ in her hand that has those Griffons’ names written on it, another ‘Light Cruiser’ and a ‘First Class Dust Ammunition’ to give her troops a nice attack boost, so she should be relatively safe. Besides, even with the Griffons fast travel ability, they won’t be at her city walls for at least two more turns, so she has no reason to be afraid.

“My turn?” Blake wonders out loud to the boy, who nods in response and drags his chair near hers once again. He’s been doing it the entire game, giving her advice and explaining how to use certain cards effectively. At some point the woman actually started playing without his aid, but even so, he continued to stand close to her during her turn in case she needed his help, and she never turned him away.

After she’s drawn her card and has thoroughly read its description, Blake leans in to whisper something into the boy’s ear, who can’t help the look of surprise that takes over his face at whatever she’s saying. His eyes start darting left and right, and his face sets in a focused scowl as she keeps telling him heaven-knows-what. “Oh! Then…” he mutters back, leaning in to speak into her ear —the human one— afterwards. The catlike smile that dons Blake’s visage a few seconds later gives Phoebe chills...

“Look at you go, kitty,” Yang says to her wife, winking at her, “making strategies and plotting our demise when you didn’t even want to play.”

The faunus woman feigns offense as she parts from the boy, taking a hand to her chest. “Plotting? Me? Quite the opposite, my dear,” she claims with painfully obvious honeyed words. “I actually want to offer you all a truce.”

“A _truce_?” Phoebe asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“That’s right, since this year I am...” she nods, placing the card on the table, “the host of the Vytal Festival!”

For a second, Phoebe isn’t impressed by her play. ‘Host of the Vytal Festival’ is not an offensive card, neither it summons any units, and it doesn’t remove any current troops off the board. However, the moment she realizes just how that move affects the current state of the game, she straightens on her chair and leans forward, getting more serious.

‘Host of the Vytal Festival’ is a 4-cost card that basically forces the other three kingdoms to make a choice. Either they take part in the festival, which means they can’t play troop cards and/or any type of “offensive” or removal card until an entire turn cycle is completed... or either they pay eight treasure points to not be affected at all. No matter what they choose, units that are currently engaged in battle keep on fighting normally until one side wins, and those which are moving continue to do so until they reach their destination. Aside from that, players who accept the terms of the festival can’t move stationary units or get into new battles until the turn goes back to the host (Blake in this case). It’s like summoning a dead turn for everyone, should they agree.

It’s a gamble, but sometimes it can lead to very… tricky situations, like right now.

If she accepts she won’t be able to play her ‘Heavy Cruiser’ until next turn, and that’d be very in the nick of time for her overly tactical and careful nature. But if she doesn’t, she’ll have to pay eight treasure points, which would leave her with three points short of what she needs to summon it anyway. It’s a lose-lose scenario… Besides, if she joins the festival but Yang doesn’t, Phoebe would be completely exposed to whatever the blonde throws at her, so she also needs to take that into account. 

Luckily for her, the order in which the other players give their answers is anti-clockwise, so Yang has to choose first. And judging by how the woman bites her lip, she must also understand the difficult predicament they’re in.

“So, _dear_ Empress of Mistral,” Blake whispers demurely, dropping her ears, “your choice?”

Yang pouts cutely while giving Phoebe a sideways glance (probably trying to decipher what she’s going to choose), then hunches over in shame and slides eight of her plastic coins into the chest. “Mistral… respectfully declines the offer.”

“Awww, that is _such_ a pity…” this is honestly the smuggest she’s seen Blake up until now, and Phoebe would be lying if she didn’t admit just how funny it is to watch her goad her wife like that. Even so, the fun quickly ends when the eyes of the Queen of Vale fall on her. "What about you, General?"

It hurts, but she has no other choice, she has to choose the lesser of the two evils. So she picks up the eight coins and drops them on the chest as well. “The, huh, great and powerful Atlas also declines.”

“What a shame…”

Damon suddenly clears his throat, drawing their attention, then smiles brightly at the black-haired woman. “Well Vacuo, for one, will be more than glad to portake—”

“Partake,” Blake whispers softly.

“—partake in this amazing event!” he offers his hand to the woman, who shakes it lightly with an amused expression.

“I appreciate it, dear King of Vacuo. It’s nice to see that at least _someone_ ,” she says, all pompous, glaring at the other two from the corner of the eye, “is willing to work towards a better future for Remnant.”

“Can we move on, please?” Phoebe urges them, a little bit frustrated.

“Yes, yes… I also pay three treasure points to use ‘Wall Maintenance’,” she shows the card, “to recover 400 defense points, and... that’s it. Your turn, Yang.”

“Come on, come on, come on, something good…” she draws a card and her instant grimace says everything. “Ugh, I can only play some ‘Bounty Hunters from Windpath’,” she places the marker at northern Mistral, possibly to send as reinforcements to Argus, since they are ground units and can’t protect her walls against Phoebe’s Nevermore. She then turns to her wife. “And since we’re still at war I attack your bullheads with my three ornithopters.”

Blake shrugs confidently. “By all means.”

The rolls turn in Yang’s favor. She obtains a critical hit and manages to destroy both of her wife’s airships, successfully clearing a path for her ornithopters to bomb Vale’s walls next turn. “Seems like you ran out of luck, honey.”

“Don’t sell the bear’s skin before hunting it,” the faunus coily suggests in response.

Yang smirks at her cheeky answer, then turns to her troops on Argus. “Anyway, let’s see how the rest of the army fares.”

After Yang resolves the combat phase of her troops, resulting in Phoebe losing a paladin and two units of knights, it’s finally her turn. She silently draws a card, hoping to get another ‘Thriving Economy’ so she can summon her ‘Heavy Cruiser’, but has to settle for a useless ‘Ursa Major’. Not wanting to risk losing health to a bad roll with the Ursa, she focuses on her current battles instead. It’s sad that she had to pay eight points just to end up doing nothing, but she had no way of knowing what Yang was going to do on her turn…

“I have nothing either so… pass me the dice,” Yang hands them over and the girl starts rolling. On Argus, Yang’s fusiliers and King Taijitu fall to the fire of her paladins, while on Vacuo, Damon’s raiders get completely destroyed, and her worms set their eyes on his walls. Sadly, that’s all she can do on her turn… “Alright bro, your last turn. Show me what you got.”

At least, knowing that her Grimm are going to smash her twin’s walls by her next turn gives her some relief...

“Okay,” he draws a card... and immediately turns to Blake. “Your turn!”

...

Phoebe frowns. “Well that’s… disappointing. I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

“I only have the point I get at the start of the turn soooooo… not much I can do with that,” he says with a lopsided smile. “You’ve been awesome as always, sis. I just can’t do anything against you.”

She squints her eyes, glaring daggers at him. “Right…”

He has something planned, there’s no doubt... but Phoebe can’t seem to grasp whatever it may be. With no army to speak of, neither he or Blake are in any way close to victory. Once Phoebe’s turn comes, her worms will destroy Damon’s walls, she’ll summon the cruiser to take care of his Griffons when they arrive next turn, and then use the ammunition card to boost her units and whoop Yang’s butt on Argus. The blonde will probably take care of her Nevermore before it has a chance to attack, but the Battleship itself is more than enough to do the rest of the job. She’ll conquer Mistral, destroy Vacuo, and then turn her sight to Vale!

“Go ahead, Blake, the festival is over,” Phoebe continues, turning her predatory gaze to the woman, “it’s time for war.”

“Sadly... But first,” the faunus shows a card from her hand, “I pay two points to use ‘Suburb Scammers’ and give away one card of my choosing in exchange for one of an opponent.”

Huh, that’s slightly annoying, and actually has the potential to screw her plans, but still, the odds are in her favour. Both Phoebe and Yang display their hands (without actually showing the cards, of course), guessing that Blake will be smart enough to try and take a potential removal or a strong unit from the two strongest players, but they’re left hanging and confused when the woman turns to the boy without a second thought.

“Dear King of Vacuo, would you be so kind as to accept a trade with this humble kingdom?” she asks gently.

“It would be my pleasure!” he exclaims, displaying the only two cards he has on each hand. Blake immediately takes the one in his right, which Phoebe notices is the one Damon had left from last turn, and gives him one of hers.

It makes no sense, why would she pick Damon’s last card? Unless they… Oh, no...

Releasing a huge breath, Blake places the card on the table and regards them with a genuine smile. “Unless you have something to counter this, I think it’s my win...”

“Wait, what?” her wife asks dumbfounded.

Damon giggles, propping his head on his hands. Phoebe and Yang lean forward in disbelief —almost jumping— to take a look at the card she played… then slowly at the entire board in horrible realization... and finally to one another.

…

“No way…” Yang whispers, a drop of sweat sliding down her cheek.

“T-This is—!” Phoebe stutters.

It’s name is ‘Malicious Dash’, a 3-cost card with a pretty simple effect, and that’s reducing every Grimm’s travel time on the board by one turn. Basically, a creature that would normally reach its target in two turns, would instead reach it in just one after the effect is applied. Simple enough, right? And what would happen when a creature is only one turn away from its target, which coincidentally applies to every single Grimm on the board right now? Well, as the text box on the card specifies, it means that the creature reaches its target at the very moment of playing the card, and the damage has to be applied immediately if no trap cards are activated. The only requirement is that no Grimm must’ve been played during each player’s previous turn… which is fulfilled thanks to the annoyance of the Vytal festival… and Phoebe’s reluctance to play her Ursa.

To put it briefly, the Worms reach Vacuo, the Griffons reach Atlas, and the Nevermore reaches Mistral, all of them at the same time. And since none of them have any trap cards, the numbers add on and... all kingdoms fall, except for Vale.

It’s a triple K.O., and Blake’s win.

“Nooooooooooooooo!” Yang drops dead on the table, her weight knocking all the miniatures off the board.

Phoebe isn’t so quick to accept defeat, however. “I-It’s not fair!” she yells, pointing at them. “You cheated! This was your plan!”

“What plan? What are you talking about, sis? I lost too,” Damon wonders innocently, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms in —extremely obvious— fake frustration. “Aw, darnit!”

“You helped her! You—You played together against us, that's cheating!”

“To be fair, we both agreed to that, kiddo,” Yang points out with her face down on the table, muffling her voice.

“T-That’s... true but, huh… Ugh! It’s not fair!” everything she’d prepared, all of her troops, her perfect tactics, toppled down by one of the oldest exploits of the game!

“It was beginner’s luck, I guess…” Blake admits sheepishly.

Yang lifts her face from the table, stifling a sigh. “It’s a win nonetheless, which means you’ve earned your prize.”

“Prize?” the woman asks, cocking her head.

It seems like Blake has forgotten, but Phoebe hasn’t… If those weird god-dudes are really out there in space, and if they can hear her, she begs them to make earth swallow her right now, because she’s about to endure her most embarrassing punishment up to date.

And of course, her dear and kind twin is there to remind the woman. “Yes! Phoebe has something she has to tell you, remember?”

Her ears perk up. “Oh, right!”

“Traitor…” Phoebe murmurs under her breath.

Damon jumps off the chair and trots to her side, tugging at her arm and dragging her to the other side of the table —despite her complaints—, right in front of the woman. “Come on, sis, what do you have to say?”

“Wait, wait!” Yang exclaims hurriedly, fishing the scroll from her pocket and pointing it at them with a goofy smile.

“You’re _really_ gonna record it?!” Phoebe shouts, turning as red as her t-shirt. “I thought you were joking!”

“It’s okaaay, it’s for our eyes only, I promise!” she dismisses with a wave of her hand, her eyes hidden behind the device.

“Uuuugh…”

Her twin taps her on the back, gently pushing her closer and closer to Blake. She can’t see his face, but she can practically hear the teasing smirk in his voice. “C’mon, sis, you have to say it veeeeery clearly.”

Phoebe looks up to the woman, who simply stares back with a sympathetic and slightly shy smile, her hands folded on her lap and her ears pressed against her head. She’s not gonna be able to look her in the eye after this… Honestly, it’s one thing to admit that they’ve had really cool lives, being Huntresses, world saviors and all that... But standing in front of her and telling her to her face that she’s the _coolest_ person ever is just… plain embarrassing.

The blonde peeks from behind her scroll. “Weeeeeeell?”

...

Not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, she gulps, starts playing with one of her locks to calm herself, and finally turns to the black-haired faunus with her cheeks burning red. “Y-You’re the… the coolest person I’ve ever met, B-Blake.”

“Oh my gosh…” Yang literally moans out loud. “That’s sooooo cuuuuuute!”

If Phoebe was blushing before, then her ears are probably fuming right now. She raises her hands to hide what little pride she has left, crouching to make herself as tiny as possible and groaning into her palms out of sheer embarrassment. The fact that Damon and Yang are giggling in the background doesn’t help at all!

When she dares to open her eyes again, Blake is looking right back at her with a funny smile and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink. "Thank you, Phoebe, you’re very nice," she says, her hands still on her lap and head slightly cocked to the side.

“Alright, I said it, are you all happy now?!” she yells, flustered beyond limit.

Yang and Damon happily exclaim at the same time, “Yup!”

She pouts, growling under her breath. “You’re the worst…”

The whole situation gets a chuckle out of Blake, who finally stands up and stretches her arms like she’s just woken up from a long nap, and it’s no wonder. After playing for —she glances at the clock on the table— nearly two hours, her body feels pretty stiff too. It’s a really cool game, all things considered, but not very good for consecutive matches… Otherwise you might end up falling asleep on the table.

“I admit, that was far more entertaining than I thought, at least when you learn how to play,” Blake declares, running her fingers over the cardboard map. “It’s certainly much more strategic than I imagined.”

“It is!” Damon agrees.

“Of course it is, you just needed to give it a chance,” Yang nods in satisfaction before turning to the twins, “thank you both for that, by the way. Considering how many times we tried to get her to play in the past, this is actually a historic occasion, trust me. My sister will go nuts when she learns about this...”

Phoebe smirks with her hands in her pockets, slowly getting over her embarrassment. “Well, if you ever want to give it a shot, you know where to find us.”

It is meant as a half-joke more than anything, a way to settle her racing heart and join in the laughter rather than being the cause of it (although a part of her really means it, she’d really enjoy playing with them again), but judging by the sudden silence that follows and the awkward looks that cross the women’s faces, perhaps... she chose her words poorly. She’s not ashamed to talk about their lives on the streets, but even Phoebe can understand how it may sour the good mood they had by reminding them about it. She just… spoke without thinking.

“I-I mean… I just wanted to— uh…” she blurts, trying to find a way to diffuse the situation.

She turns to her twin, who seems just as conflicted as her, and gives him a look that screams ‘help me’. He bites his lip, eyes darting around like he’s trying to find a solution, when he suddenly perks up and jumps around to face the blonde. “Y-Yang, you said you could make cookies, right?”

The woman looks confused for a second, but then a tiny smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah, why? You feeling hungry?”

Damon gives Phoebe a sideways glance and a little nod, which she immediately catches on to. “Y-You said they were the best in the world, right? We wanna judge for ourselves!” she turns to Blake, who looks like she’s also back to normal, and extends her hand out to her. “We can try making them together too.”

The black-haired woman seems to appreciate their effort. She visibly relaxes as some light returns to her face, but she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I _really_ need to do some work, besides,” she looks at her wife, “Yang is the cookie expert here.”

Phoebe retracts her hand, somewhat disappointed. “Oh, ok…”

“Not even for a little bit?” Damon tries bashfully.

“I can’t... I have very important paperwork to fill in for tomorrow. But I’ll tell you what,” she says with a warm smile, crouching between the twins and placing a hand on their shoulders, “how about you help Yang make the cookies, make some of your own, and then later I’ll try a few and give you my thoughts?” she suggests. “Who knows? Maybe you end up surpassing her.”

That sounds like a challenge, and if Phoebe likes something, is a good challenge. It doesn’t matter that she’s been beaten at her favourite game just a few minutes ago —which by the way doesn’t really count because Damon and Blake joined forces against her and that’s, like, totally unfair—, because she’s already prepared to beat the blonde at her own game!

“Fine, but if mine are better, then this time _you’ll_ have to say I’m the coolest, okay?” she asks enthusiastically.

“That goes for me, too!” her twin adds with pursed lips, hands on his waist.

Blake nods with an amused smirk. “It’s a deal.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you two help me clear this mess first,” Yang cuts in with a deep scowl, gesturing to the table. “We’re not making any cookies until everything is packed up and tidy.”

The twins’ only response is a groan, but they know better than to try and get away without cleaning after they’re done playing. They’d only made that mistake a few times during their early years at the orphanage… Those who didn’t follow the rules and left their toys all scattered around ended up having to make everyone’s beds the following day... It was a newbie’s mistake, but one very few ever repeated.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Blake winks at them, scurrying out of the room.

The three are left alone in the living room, gathering the cards, picking up the miniatures and putting them in their respective bags (they usually just dumped everything inside the box, but Yang preferred the most long and tiring process), and all that boring stuff… But even so, and despite the fact that she lost the game and was forced to endure one hell of a punishment, she’s had a really good time. 

Ever since they arrived with the couple, it’s been nothing but one awesome thing after another. The bath, the dinner, meeting Aster, discovering the secret about the war, the game… and now they were going to make cookies!

It’s been so surreal, so perfect, so much more than what she expected, so much like a dream come true… that she fears the moment they have to say goodbye and go back to Mistral... Go back to growling bellies, to sleep on a cardboard in a dirty and smelly back alley... to be alone and mean nothing to no one again.

And as her twin playfully taps her side with his elbow as he gathers the miniatures, smiling in a way that she hasn’t seen in a long time and makes something in her stomach flutter, she starts dreading what that realization will do to him… more than anything. That this is all just a dream, and eventually they're gonna have to wake up. She needs to make sure that he understands that and is ready to put it all behind when the time comes, before it breaks his heart.

She needs to talk with him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm not dragging this too much, but please bear with me for a little bit more... Thanks for reading, and see you on the next chapter!


	10. Ep I: Chapter 10

Damon’s on cloud nine right now. And not just because he’s once again tucked in the comfiest bed ever, but because this has been the best day of his life, easily.

Not only did they get to play with some real sheep for the first time in their lives —and make a cool new friend in the process—, but they also managed to stumble upon their favourite board game of all time and play with Yang and Blake. Honestly, he already expected to have a good time the moment Yang made them the offer of going with her, but it’s crazy just how short he fell in his guess.

The game had been awesome, and even though he didn’t officially win, he kinda did in a way by helping Blake win in the end; they were lucky Yang and Phoebe were so bent on defeating one another that they didn’t notice all their scheming until it was too late, but Blake played incredibly well nonetheless. The game seemed to grow so much on her that an hour into the match she even started roleplaying and sassing the other two in her ‘Queen of Vale’ persona, which Damon found wonderfully amusing.

And right after that —and after properly punishing and teasing Phoebe, to his delight—, they went on to the kitchen to spend the rest of the afternoon baking cookies with Yang! She taught them how to make the dough —using her family’s secret recipe that they’re not allowed to divulge, under severe punishment—, how to stir it and finally how to give them form and add the chocolate chips before putting them in the oven.

It took quite a while, but boy were they worth the wait...

To be honest, Damon has only ever had the same store brand cookies the orphanage staff always bought, so he couldn’t really compare much... But nevertheless, he had to agree with Yang. Hers were the best cookies in the world to him right now, and by a long shot.

They helped her prepare the first two batches, passing her the ingredients, stirring the dough and putting it on the tray, but after that she let them try and bake a batch by themselves. Yang supervised the whole thing, and she insisted on being the one to put the tray in and out of the oven, but they did almost everything else. The result was… acceptable. Certainly better than the store brand, but not even close to Yang’s. Even she admitted it proudly, arguing that at least she could save some of her self-esteem after losing so embarrassingly at the game. Blake was a lot more compassionate when they went to her study to let her taste the cookies, saying theirs were just as good as Yang’s —which earned a cry of victory from them—, something her wife quickly denied by accusing the faunus of —exact quotation— ‘knowing nothing about sweets, you obsessive tea-lover’. Blake frowned at that, but judging by the knowing looks between them it was obvious that they were just goofing around.

They were constantly doing that. Teasing, taunting and poking fun at each other, much like what he does with his sister whenever the opportunity arises; light-hearted moments of simple fun and merriment. He doesn’t really know how to describe what that sort of atmosphere makes him feel, but if he had to put it in one word, it’d probably be… warmth.

It’s not the same feeling he gets when he has fun with Phoebe, but it’s close. It’s something that makes him all fuzzy on the inside, like he’s... part of something.

He knows full well where this feeling comes from, and how selfish he’s being for even considering it, and… he didn’t want to ruin everything by voicing his thoughts. As much as he wanted to, and as much as he yearns for it, he couldn’t speak up. But maybe, he thinks to himself, if he behaves, if he tries his best… 

Maybe they’ll start thinking the same...

And maybe this time he’ll be good enough too... and she won’t have to suffer because of him.

...

Damon doesn’t know exactly when he started to entertain this idea. Perhaps last night, after Yang tucked them in for the first time? Earlier today when they were dining with the couple? Yesterday he was too busy, being overwhelmed by their kindness and making sure that his sister loosed up, to even consider it properly but... it would be a lie to say he didn’t fantasize about it the moment they left Mistral with Yang.

Although, to be honest, him daydreaming about suddenly meeting someone kind enough to adopt them wasn’t rare… it happened almost everyday. It was never more than that, of course, mere daydreaming.

But this time is different.

Phoebe moves at his side, shifting under the sheets to make herself more comfortable and sending a wave of coolness down to his feet in the process, which makes him shiver (Yang’s shirts are nice and soft, but a little bit loose on them). They’ve just gotten in bed so the mattress is still awfully cold, but a little bit of wiggling will take care of that in no time.

Since they stayed up until late last night, Yang and Blake made sure the twins went straight to bed right after dinner, despite Phoebe’s protests. Damon gladly compelled, more than happy to get to the soft, fluffy mattress once more.

Just like the previous day, Yang wordlessly makes sure that they’re properly tucked in. It’s such a simple yet meaningful gesture, that Damon can’t help but feel giddy and playfully kick his feet under the sheets. It’s a gesture of caring, of affection, there’s no mistaking that. She cares about them enough to make sure that they’re warm and comfortable for the night. That alone means more to him than the fact she’s letting them use the beds in the first place.

There wasn’t a comment nor a question about their choice of sleeping together, to his surprise. Yang simply watched as they both climbed up the same mattress and then proceeded to tuck both of them in like she didn’t even notice the sudden change. She _obviously_ had to find both of them tangled together this morning, but she didn’t say anything on the matter. He wonders if maybe she’s embarrassed to ask, or if she feels that would be inappropriate or something.

The woman stands in the middle of the room, watching them with a lopsided smile on her face after her job is done. “I told you yesterday, and I repeat. If you need anything during the night, don’t be afraid to ask, and I mean it,” she then clicks her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Seriously, there was an awful lack of waking us up at two in the morning to ask for water. What kind of guests are you?”

They both chuckle at her sarcasm. This woman is simply too much fun!

“I would have,” Phoebe ventures from the bed with an amused grin, “but it would’ve felt really bad to disturb Blake.”

Yang puts her hands on her waist and leans forward, pouting comically. “Oh, so it’s okay to disturb me but not her, huh?”

The girl nods, wiggling impishly under the sheets. “Yup!”

“You little punk…” the blonde chortles, turning to leave the room.

“Um, Yang!” Damon calls, making her turn her head, “Aster has school tomorrow, so Phoebe and I thought about going to the inn in the morning. You wanna come with us?”

She smiles apologetically. “Sorry but I have one more chore to do, and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take,” she explains, but then suddenly lights up. “But hey, how about you come with me? I can show you the inn in the afternoon, and we can invite Aster to come with us too. Sounds good?”

More than good, actually.

“Sounds great!”

They had already made plans with the girl to hang out in the afternoon (she was gonna show them her awesome skills with the slingshot), but he’s sure she’ll be more than glad to join in. It’s clear she’s fond of Blake and Yang, after everything she told them this morning about team RWBY.

“You’re going to the city again?” Phoebe wonders.

“Yeah, I have to talk with an old friend in his shop. It has to do with the tool boxes we found in the storeroom earlier, but I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

“Okay, then wake us up early so we can take our time having breakfast,” his twin demands.

Yang rolls her eyes, leaning on the door. “At your command, _General_.”

“Thank you soldier, you can leave now,” she answers back, turning to lie on her side —facing him— and officially putting an end to the conversation. 

The blonde sighs, smiling. “Good night, kids.”

“Good night, Yang...” Damon yawns as he lies on his side, facing his twin as well.

“‘Night...” Phoebe murmurs.

Yang then turns off the lights and leaves, closing the door behind her. The moment the twins are alone in the dark and silent room, Phoebe whispers, “Try not to drool on my hair this time...”

“Try not to snore too much,” he counters, which earns him a light kick in the shin, making him chuckle through his teeth. “Good night, Phoebe.”

When she doesn’t respond, Damon assumes she’s just dozed off (something weird, since he’s usually the one that falls asleep first) and closes his eyes as well, but after a few seconds of silence —only interrupted by the gentle whistling breeze that comes through the window—, she speaks up, her voice less than a murmur.

“So… It’s our second night here.”

He guesses that his sister is not as tired as he thought she’d be and simply wants to chat a little bit before calling it a day. It’s not something uncommon for them. When you live on the streets you have to get used to going to sleep relatively late, when all the hustle starts to die out. In a city as big as Mistral though, the noise never really fades, it just gets… muffled, easier to ignore. They’re already accustomed to sleeping through it, but sometimes the noise takes a little bit more time to fade, so they pass the time inside of their cardboard box talking about literally anything, like what they had to eat, something funny they saw in the streets, or just playing hand puppets with a couple of plastic bags.

Damon opens his eyes again, and notices that her blue ones are open as well, but she’s not quite looking at him and instead glances away at the ceiling.

“Yeah, feels like the day has gone in a flash,” he admits merrily, the corner of his lips turning upwards. “Time sure flies by when you’re having fun, huh?”

She doesn’t respond, and instead turns to lie on her back with a troubled expression. That’s not a good sign, and the boy immediately realizes that something’s wrong with her, so he props up on his elbows to look his twin in the eyes. “Phoebe?”

It takes a few seconds, but she finally turns to him, although with downcast eyes. “You do remember that this is just for a few days, right?”

He remains still for a moment, considering her question but… he doesn’t find the will to answer —half because he didn’t expect the question, and half because he knows she won’t like his answer—, so instead he lowers his head.

“Damon,” she presses on, harsher, and propping up as well.

If he answers, it’ll be like accepting that it cannot be —and he still wants to believe, he still dares to hope—, so he doesn’t, and simply asks, “Why bring that up now?”

“Because I don’t want you to have false hopes,” she whispers, her voice warm and worried. “We talked about this, Damon... We don’t know for how long they’re gonna let us stay with them, but Yang made clear that it was just for a few days. Tomorrow could be our last day here for all we know, and I just… don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The boy shakes his head, rejecting that very thought. He can’t bring himself to imagine neither Yang or Blake just… being okay with leaving them on their own again. “I’m… not sure of that.”

Phoebe cocks her head in his direction. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… “ he starts, glancing at her. “Do you really think they’re gonna just put us back where they found us?” he’s not asking to get a yes or no, but merely to get his point across. “I don’t know, they don’t… they don’t seem to be that kind of person, neither of them. I can’t imagine that after all the fun we’ve had together and how kind they’ve been with us… that they’d just throw us away like nothing happened.”

His sister furrows her brow in response, biting her lip. “I can’t imagine that either but… life never goes the way we want. Remember how they reacted to what I said earlier. If they were really planning to let us stay, they wouldn’t have reacted the way they did.”

Yes... he remembers her little slip of tongue, and how both women suddenly froze in place, as if the subject was forbidden for them. But even so, he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s much more to it than a simple ‘we’d rather not talk about that’. Yang’s affectionate gestures towards them can’t be just her inherent kindness, even if that’s what he initially thought, there has to be something more; his gut tells him as much… Blake has been a little bit more reserved, but today she’s opened up a lot thanks to the game; she has warmed up to them, just as much as her wife.

That awkward moment remains, but Damon still wants to believe. This is his chance to give his sister a better life, after she sacrificed everything to be with him, and he refuses to believe that they’re going back to zero.

“They’re the kindest people we’ve ever met, that’s true,” she continues, placing a hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze, “but that doesn’t mean they’re going to let two random kids into their lives just because they spent a couple of days with them. It doesn’t work like that… That kind of thing only happens in fairy tales.”

He still denies it, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the sudden prickling sensation in his eyes...

“Y-You’re wrong,” he declares, shaking his head vigorously, as if doing it hard enough could push those thoughts away, “t-they’re not… they’re not going to abandon us, they’re not like that, you’re wrong.”

He’s not going to cry this time, he’s not a crybaby anymore… He’s not...

Phoebe puts a hand on his shoulder, looking deflated but still determined to make him see sense. “I’m sorry Damon, but… we need to be real. The sooner we accept that this is going to end, the better.”

He stifles a sob and, before the first tear has the chance to run down his cheek, he shoves his head back down on the pillow. He doesn’t say anything else, not even when she feels Phoebe covering him with the sheets and silently hugging him from behind, in an attempt to soothe his trembling body. Instead, he sobs quietly into the pillow, trying to swallow the knot in his throat.

But even as he eventually falls asleep, exhausted and depleted, he refuses to stop believing...

  


* * *

  


After putting the kids in bed, Yang comes back down to the kitchen, only to find Blake sitting by the table while peacefully sipping at her tea and with a mountain of cookies sitting on a tray in front of her (some of them in ‘animal-looking’ shapes, since the kids thought that a regular old cookie wasn’t enough for them). There’s a second steaming cup on the other side, which is undoubtedly Yang’s espresso, as always. However, instead of sitting down and enjoying her drink, she opts for walking up to her wife and snatching her teacup from her with no warning.

“Hey!” she hisses.

Without uttering a single word and smiling mischievously, she also takes her coffee and gulps down both drinks in one go, thankfully fast enough to not taste the overly exotic flavour of her wife’s tea. Poor Blake can only stare in consternation as the blonde empties the contents of the cups and slams them down on the table with a satisfied —and obviously faked— sigh.

After a few seconds of processing what just happened, the faunus purses her lips and raises a resentful eyebrow. “Is that your idea of an apology?”

“Not really,” Yang admits —holding up a little burp— as she walks up to the kitchen counter, “but you’re always preparing our after-dinner-drinks so… I thought I could make you tea today.”

“It’s literally just heating water and putting the teabag…” her wife deadpans.

Yang shakes her head. “Not that way. The cool way, like your mom.”

At this, her wife’s ears perk up and her expression becomes more curious than annoyed. “You mean with the teapot?”

One of the most important rules about living with Blake: don’t mess with her tea if you don’t want to face the kitty’s wrath. Fortunately, and judging by her tone, she seems willing to entertain this new experiment of hers.

“Yeah! Not like I understand much about tea or anything but, isn’t it supposed to taste better than teabags?” she asks while taking out the kettle and the teapot from the cupboard. “I never saw your mom using them.”

The teapot is made of beautiful white ceramic with golden details and an elegant blue swallow —the emblem of the FIS— hand-painted on both sides; a nice present from her parents in celebration of the day the White Fang was officially reformed.

“She always says that they’re lacking and lazy compared to conventionally-brewed tea. And it’s true, although they’re not bad in any way, they just don’t taste as good,” she explains from the table with a tinge of humour, “the tea leaves are in the upper right cabinet with the spices, look in the back.”

She follows her instructions and opens the one on the upper right. “Why don’t you do it this way more often then?”

“Convenience I guess? It’s easier to just fill a cup with water and put in the bag.”

“Huh, seems a bit of a waste.” 

Rummaging through the cabinet, Yang manages to find a couple of plastic bags filled with different kinds of dried leaves. They each have a label on them with weird plant names, but she’s only interested in one. There’s a bag in the middle filled with purple-coloured buds, labeled as ‘Lavender’.

Oh yeah, that’s the one.

The moment she picks it out and Blake sees it, her eyes light up and an amused smile tugs at her lips. “Well, well, well, aren’t you the cunning little cheater?”

Yang may not know much about teas, but she knows the only thing about them that really matters.

Blake’s favourite kind.

“Hey, when I apologize, I _apologize_ ,” she shrugs smugly.

“I still haven’t heard the s-word though,” her wife retorts, playfully glancing away. “And before you say anything, earlier doesn’t count, we were interrupted.”

“You can’t rush these things, Blake,” she admonishes with a click of her tongue while she picks up the electric kettle, fills it up with water and sets it to around 210 ºF. “Okay, so after this we just pour the water in the teapot and add the tea, right?”

Blake looks her way once again, dropping the playful act. “Yes, it usually goes like that but… Wanna know a pro tip?”

The blonde waves her arm in a flourish manner, giving her the stage. “Please, I aspire to nothing but the best.”

The faunus stands up and comes next to her. She waits there for a moment, watching the temperature in the kettle rise. “This should be enough,” then she picks it up when the water is halfway through to boiling point and pours a small amount into the teapot, grabs it by the handle and gives it a few swirls under Yang’s confused gaze. “This way, when we add the boiling water, the temperature won’t drop too much and the tea will steep better.”

“Oh, that has the mark of Kali ‘I-don’t-drink-anything-that-doesn’t-have-flowers-floating-on-it’ Belladonna written all over,” she laughs, “but it’s a nice detail. I wish I was as much into coffee as your mom is into this.”

Her wife snickers into her hand. “No. No, you don’t.”

A melodic beep and steam coming out of the kettle signals the reach of the boiling point, and Yang proceeds to pick it up and turn to Blake. She was going to try and make the tea herself, managing however she could, but it seems her wife decided to take the matter into her own hands.

“You want some too?” the faunus asks her, measuring the amount of buds she needs to put in the teapot with a spoon while Yang pours the water. By her tone, it’s clear she doesn’t expect an affirmative answer.

Well she’s in for a surprise. “Yup!”

She raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Really? 

“Hey, I’m going through with this apology to the end. Besides, I already drank the awful one, according to your mom, so I want to have a taste of the real deal,” she says, pointing with her thumb to the cups on the table, “if what you’re saying is true, there’s no way this tastes worse.”

Blake makes an appreciative hum, smirking nonchalantly. “Can’t argue with that.”

After putting three spoonfuls of lavender buds in the pot and pouring the water, they wait by the counter until the tea is nicely steeped, Blake with her arms crossed and a serene smile as her gaze lingers on the teapot, while Yang simply leans against the counter, facing the door. As the bubbling water lowers its temperature, the kitchen gets peacefully silent.

This is —Yang realizes— the right moment. 

“I’m sorry…”

Her wife remains still, but she doesn’t miss the subtle way in which her back straightens just the slightest bit. Although Blake’s eyes remain fixated on the teapot, one of her cat ears turns in Yang’s direction, silently encouraging her to speak.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you, or... stormed off like that. You were just trying to help, to be responsible and think everything through,” she calmly explains, “and I guess I… got overwhelmed by this new feeling. I’m really sorry.”

“You feel strongly about them,” Blake simply states, turning to look at her with warm forgiving eyes, “and with good reason. They’re such nice kids... After all they’ve been through, you would expect them to have lost all innocence, but they haven’t. It’s like they kept it hidden, waiting for a moment of respite where they could...”

“Be kids once again,” Yang finishes.

Her wife nods and steps closer to her, looking straight into her eyes. When Yang turns to face her as well, Blake simply surrounds her with her arms, letting her head rest over her left shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize... I wasn’t mad at you, you know? Not even for a second.”

Yang automatically hugs her back, sighing contentedly into the crook of her neck.

Blake goes on, speaking softly into her ear, “I couldn’t be mad when all you did was be concerned about them and show just how selfless you’ve always been. You’re still the most caring woman I’ve ever met, Yang,” she separates just enough to look her in the eyes, then boops her on the nose with a teasing smirk, “despite your _intensity_.”

This makes Yang chuckle through her teeth. “That’s a really nice way of putting it,” as the faunus shares in her laugh, she decides to close the gap between them once more, but this time instead of hugging she goes straight for her lips, in a kiss that lasts for a few blissful seconds. “Thank you, I really needed to get this out of my system.”

Blake merely steals another quick peck from her and parts from her side to take care of the teapot, the tender look in her eyes more than answer enough for Yang. However, as much as they’ve just cleared things between them, they still need to address the Goliath in the room.

“So... do you want to sit down and carry on from where we left it yesterday?” she asks timidly while raising both hands, palms forward, “no red eyes this time.”

Her wife nods with a determined look, grabbing the teapot. “Okay. Set up the cups, would you? This should be ready.”

“Sure.”

After Blake serves them both a cup of tea, they sit facing each other, with the faunus instantly picking the cup in her hands and taking in the scent of lavender with a long and relaxed sigh. The blonde tries to imitate her and takes a huge sniff at her tea. And she has to admit, the thing actually smells pretty good. Not good like ‘espresso-good’, not even close, but it’s certainly very aromatic.

She takes a first temptative sip under the black haired’s scrutinous gaze and is immediately surprised by its fragrant floral taste. Her eyes go wide as she suddenly recognizes this particular flavour; a tea that she’s never had before (the first tea that she has ever truly tasted, for that matter), yet somehow one that’s _very_ familiar to her.

Yang ponders over this for far longer than she imagines, since her wife calls her out, sitting at the edge of her seat waiting to see her reaction. “So? What do you think?”

The moment she looks at her wife, Yang realizes why the flavour seems familiar.

It is Blake’s favourite after all...

The faunus probably finds her sudden giggling fit very confusing. “What does that mean?” she wonders cutely.

“I love it,” Yang declares, smiling from ear to ear.

Blake squints her eyes, obviously not believing a word. “You’re joking.”

“Nope, I’m being one hundred percent honest here. I assure you, it is the single _yummiest_ thing I’ve had in my life.”

By the look she gives her, Blake still isn’t buying any of it. But since Yang keeps sipping at her teacup with a genuine smile, the faunus probably chooses to accept it, although she keeps glancing at her with puzzled eyes.

After that, they remain in comfortable silence for a minute, the only sound filling the kitchen being their quiet sips, the tinkling sound of the teacups each time they touch the table, and the clock on the wall softly counting each second. The tray of cookies remains untouched in the middle of the table, and it will continue like that until morning. Not because Blake hates sweets or because Yang doesn’t feel like having some, but because they agreed to save them for the kids; heaven knows when was the last time they had a proper sweet. And also because she just can’t bring herself to bite off that one shaped like a cat’s face or that three-legged dog! They’re like small pieces of art!

Only a couple of minutes pass, and Yang feels that things have gotten nice and calm, so she takes it upon herself to finally address the subject.

“So, I’ve been... considering everything that you said yesterday, very carefully,” she starts slowly, earning her wife’s silent attention. “The last thing you said, about being absent mothers and all that… It hit me hard.”

Blake’s ears drop instantly, along with her expression. “I’m sorry, Yang… I wasn’t trying to compare—”

“No, no, I don’t mean it like that,” she quickly interrupts, not wanting her wife to feel guilty of anything. Even if the unintentional comparison with Raven had stung her, she knew right then and there that it wasn’t what she had meant. “I mean that I know how that kind of absence feels. And even if in this case isn’t that extreme, you’re right, it’s still something they shouldn’t have to endure. Parents that can be away from home for days, or even weeks, and both at the same time? Yeah, not a very good environment to raise children.”

“No, it isn’t,” Blake agrees, shaking her head.

“That’s why,” she continues after taking a long breath, getting ready to drop the bomb, “I’ve taken this chance to reflect on what I’ve been doing with my life, and what I want for my future... And I’ve decided I’m going to retire as a Huntress.”

Blake’s eyes widen, her expression frozen in one of sheer astonishment, but before she can say anything Yang explains further.

“I-I’m going to find another job though! You remember Bob Vulcan, right? My usual supplier? Well, it seems he has a heavy workload, and he can’t take care of everything by himself without making delays. So I thought ‘Hey, I’m no Ruby, but I’m pretty good at tinkering myself!’, and I remembered I had these old tool boxes and schematics somewhere in the storeroom and, well, I thought I could try my luck. There’s plenty of space in the garage too, so I don’t even have to worry about finding a place to set up everything. S-So, huh, yeah!” she finishes, almost out of breath and waiting to gauge her wife’s reaction.

The faunus doesn’t react, however, her expression remains exactly the same, and Yang starts to worry.

...

“Blake? You there?” she asks, waving a hand in front of her.

Then suddenly the woman snorts —making Yang flinch in surprise—, blowing air through her nose and shaking in pure amusement. What comes next is an unexpected full on laughing fit, with the faunus hunching over the table as she tries to control her mirth, and the blonde staring awkwardly at her with no idea of what’s going on; seeing Blake dissolving into such wild laughter is rarer than finding a four-leaved clover.

“I have to admit,” Yang voices over her wife’s giggles, an awkward smile tugging at her lips because of the unexpected turn of events, “that’s not the reaction I was expecting, like, at all.”

Although unable to stop her chuckling, Blake manages to blurt out an explanation in between gasps of air. “Oh, I-I’m sorry! It’s—It’s just… That is _such_ a ‘Yang Xiao Long’ thing to do! I considered the possibility you might do something along those lines, but you’re actually— oh my god!” and she just bursts out laughing again.

Oh, come on, is she really that predictable?

She can’t help the blush that takes over her cheeks (in retrospect... it is a rather radical approach), but still, she feels a lot better knowing that Blake is taking it so well. “Soooo, you agree with this?”

“O-Of course I do, you dork!”

Yang arches an eyebrow. “Don’t want to shoot me in the foot or anything but… Why?”

“How could I not?” her wife retorts, finally getting her giggles under control and taking a most needed sip from her tea to clear her throat. “I made that same choice years ago, Yang. And not just because I felt it was the right thing to do, but because it was what I _wanted_ to do. Everyone should strive to do whatever makes them happy in life, so if you feel like being a Huntress no longer makes you happy, then you’re in your right to look for something better,” she makes a pause to take another sip, then glances away with bashful eyes. “Besides, it also means I no longer have to worry about you being in danger out there, so I have you at home and all to myself… That’s already a big plus in my book.”

“Well, that’s— that’s great!”

“That being said,” she goes on, taking a dejected look that makes Yang get her feet on the ground once more, “I still don’t agree with your other choice…”

Of course, she already guessed her retirement would only take care of the first problem. It was going to take a little bit more effort to change Blake’s mind, but that’s exactly what she has prepared herself to do. So Yang simply breathes, takes another sip from her tea —the familiar taste actually helps her calm down, no wonder Blake is always drinking it—, and leans forward, resting her arms on the table. “Then, the problem is that you think you’re not ready for this.”

It seems she can’t find the exact words, or something keeps her from saying it out loud, because she simply lowers her gaze and nods weakly.

“Come on, Blake, you need to stop berating yourself like this. You’re perfectly fine the way you are,” Yang tries to convince her, to make her see reason, despite the faunus glancing away in stubborn denial. “Just look at how you played with them earlier, how easily you interacted with them... I don’t know, it felt so right and natural... Were you faking it?”

She instantly shakes her head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Then there you have it! You’ve already connected with them, and I can assure you the feeling is mutual. What more proof do you need?”

“Connecting with them is not enough, Yang,” Blake sighs, disheartened. “They’re wonderful, and I had a lot of fun with them, I _mean_ it. But enjoying their company and actually raising them are two completely different things. Like I told you yesterday, I just don’t know if I’m ready...”

Yang chuckles lightly, stretching her good arm to grab her hand and try and ease her worries. “You can ask any new parents in the world, and I’m sure they’d all tell you that same thing. Hell, if _my_ father could do it, trust me, anyone can!” she snorts, but her wife doesn’t react. “The truth is, Blake, that you’re never gonna be ready until you simply take the risk. It’s like a leap of faith...”

“Then I don’t think I’m prepared to dive in,” she exhales, accepting her scarred hand in hers and making eye contact. “I’m afraid to mess it up with them, Yang. And I’m sure there’s someone out there that can do it one hundred times better than me, someone who can make them happy and raise them the way they deserve.”

Yang frowns, frustrated by her wife’s obstinacy. She has closed herself completely in her belief that she is somehow not fit to be a good mother, simply because she made some mistakes in her youth that led to some terrible things happening. Things that were entirely someone else’s fault, as a matter of fact, but Blake still holds that bit of guilt deeply rooted in her heart, even after all these years.

That fear is the only thing that’s keeping her from agreeing with her plan. The blonde can already see the doubt in her wife’s voice as she tries to make excuses; she wants to do it, Yang is sure of it, but she’s holding herself back, clinging to that idea of ‘what’s best for the twins’, of finding someone ‘better’ than her. It’s stupid and unreasonable, and Yang knows it perfectly. But she also knows that breaking that wall is going to be harder than she expected.

You can’t just build up someone’s self-confidence simply by telling them how perfect they are at your eyes. Blake has to realize how wrong she is for thinking that way and knock down that barrier herself…

Yang only needs to find out how to do it.

But first, she has to make sure that she has enough time to find a solution.

…

So instead of pressing further in an attempt she knows isn’t going anywhere, she calmly asks, “Have you talked with Ilia yet?”

Blake seems taken by surprise by the sudden change of topic, her teacup stopping midway to her lips, but she eventually nods half-heartedly. “I called her this morning, after I came back from Bas’ place.”

That is troubling.

Yang doesn’t like the idea any more than she did yesterday, but she figured Blake may have already contacted her friend to discuss the matter. Depending on what Ilia might have told her, this could complicate things... but still, Yang doesn’t lose her cool. “Did you explain the situation to her?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She has a few friends in her department who she thinks might be interested. It’s not certain, but there’s a chance,” she explains with a small frown, looking strangely worried about that prospect. This is just another proof of Blake’s true feelings. “I think it would be better if it’s someone she knows personally rather than some random strangers, right?”

“Yeah... that would be better,” she murmurs, looking down at her tea.

That’s certainly the better alternative if they end up in the worst case scenario. Yang doesn’t even want to imagine that possibility, but she’s lived long enough to know that sometimes in life you can’t get what you want. She’s already made up her mind to visit them regularly no matter where they end up, if that were to happen. They’re not going to get rid of her so easily. At least, knowing that she could still see the kids from time to time, that she could still play a small role in their lives... It brings her some solace.

Yang forces herself to put away those thoughts. It hasn’t happened yet, there is still time…

Standing up, she walks around the table and crouches next to her wife so they can be at eye level. The faunus watches her through inquiring and worried golden eyes, but Yang merely grabs her hand and stares back at her with a tender smile.

“I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do, Blake. Whatever you choose in the end... it’ll be fine with me,” she declares sincerely, caressing her knuckles with her thumb. “All I ask is that you give yourself some time to think about it, at least until Ilia calls you with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Can you promise me that?”

The sudden lack of pressure on her seems to make Blake visibly more relaxed. She exhales softly and her body loses some of the stress it gained during the conversation, evidencing how serious the matter is for her. A shy and sweet smile appears slowly on her face, and she gives Yang a meaningful nod. “Okay, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she leans forward to place a kiss on her temple, “that’s all I ask.”

Yang trusts her wife more than anyone else in the world, and she knows she will reflect on everything they talked about.

It is uncertain how long it will take Ilia to reach out to her friends and sort out any possible candidates, but she hopes from the bottom of her heart that it will be long enough for her to find a way to make Blake figure out her lack of confidence... before it is too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for that first part, writing it was painful as heck ;(
> 
> On the bright side, a lil' bit of bees fluff to ease the blow!


	11. Ep I: Chapter 11

Phoebe was serious when she told Yang to come waking them in the morning last night. It’s not like she enjoys getting up early, because she doesn’t, as much as she’s already used to it. But if they’re going to accompany her to do whatever errand she has to do in the city, she’d appreciate it if they had at least twenty minutes or so to have breakfast peacefully, with no hurry.

That being said, the girl still grunts and protests into the pillow when she feels a big leathery hand shaking her shoulder gently.

“C’mon, wakey wakey,” she hears a voice —with no doubt as to who it belongs— whispering.

She tries to say ‘Five more minutes’, but what comes out of her mouth probably can’t even be described as proper speaking. However, Yang seems to be an expert at morning groans. “That’s what you said an hour ago...” she retorts, still shaking her.

Did she?

Huh, yeah... she kinda recalls stirring a little bit earlier but immediately going back to sleep again. Was that really an hour ago?

Ugh, now she feels bad.

“Okay, okay…,” Phoebe whines, trying to prop herself up. She groggily opens one of her eyes, getting a full picture of Yang’s lilac eyes just a few inches away, the woman crouched next to the bed with a frowny face. “I’m awake, I’m awake…”

The blonde stands up, fully dressed in her awesome Huntress coat (still kind of cop-like, in her opinion) and with her hair down for the first time since they met her. It looks good on her, she should leave it like that more often. “Wake your brother up and come down, okay? I’m gonna get breakfast ready.”

The girl nods weakly with half-lidded eyes. “On it.”

As the woman leaves the room, Phoebe turns to her twin to stir him up. Damon is facing the wall, made into a small bundle under the sheets with only a small speck of his fluffy black hair poking out.

The memory from last night is still fresh, and Phoebe has to curse her faunus heritage because, had she been born a human, she wouldn’t have to remember _so_ clearly her brother’s face breaking down in the dark room as she forced him to face reality. She thought that it would only hurt for a moment, that she would feel somehow relieved after she made him give up on his expectations. But she was wrong, she didn’t feel any better. Instead, she felt disgusted at herself. Even though she knows it was the right thing to do, she still feels awful…

She can only hope that everything they have planned for the day will cheer him up.

Putting a hand on his shoulder over the sheets, Phoebe tries to rouse him softly. “Damon. Damon, wake up.”

He stirs slightly, but still gives no response, so she slowly removes the sheets from over his head. Her twin’s face scrunches up a little bit when the faint morning light entering through the window warms his face, but he makes no effort to open his eyes or even move away. Phoebe immediately notices the dark circles under his eyes, and wonders how long he stayed awake after she finally fell asleep. She made sure not to doze off until he stopped crying, but it seems he didn’t give in until some time later, even after he calmed down.

“ _Damon_ , come on,” she tries again, with both hands and a bit rougher, “we’re going to the city with Yang, remember?”

One of his eyes starts to open heavily, as if his eyelids weighed a ton, and whispers under his breath, "I think I'm gonna stay, sis."

Phoebe frowns, confused. "What?"

"Sorry but.. I'm still tired," he murmurs, shifting to get more comfortable on the pillow and closing his eyes again, "I want to sleep for a bit longer."

It's understandable he's feeling like that if he stayed up until late, but the girl can't help but feel a pang of guilt in her chest. He's in this state because of _her_ …

"Come on, it's not gonna be the same without you…" Phoebe insists, feeling like the only way to ease her conscience is to get him to wake up, and because it would be the first time in half a year that they’d be away from each other. And she doesn’t want that.

He shakes his head, rejecting the offer. “I don’t feel like going out right now, I would just ruin the mood…”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not gonna ruin anything. _Get up_ ,” she tries one more time. When her twin doesn’t respond and simply wraps himself under the sheets again, her heart sinks. She hesitantly removes her hand from his shoulder and asks, voice shaking, “Are you... mad at me?”

He was so happy and excited, having the time of his life, and she shattered all of his hopes with just a few words. It’s only obvious, she supposes, but it still hurts.

For a moment it seems like he’s going to keep ignoring her, but then he slowly turns around and his hand comes out from under the sheets, tentatively reaching for hers and giving it a tiny squeeze. “I’m not,” he reassures her, his voice muffled, “but I just… I just need some time to think.”

Phoebe exhales a breath of relief, returning the grip. After the bomb she dropped on him out of the blue, it makes sense that he needs to come to terms with it, especially considering how stubborn Damon can be sometimes.

That’s fair. She can get behind that.

“And I mean it, I’m kind of tired,” he then adds, and perhaps it's the way he says it, or the fact that she knows him like the back of her hand, but there’s a minuscule —almost imperceptible— tinge of amusement in his voice.

She lets out a tiny snort, knowing that he's emphasizing on that so she doesn't feel so bad about leaving without him. It works a little, but she still wishes he could tag along.

“I can stay with you if you want…” she offers, knowing full well what his answer is going to be.

“No, thanks. I… need to sort this out on my own.”

"Fine... then I'll tell you everything when we get back, okay?" Phoebe hurriedly states.

Her twin gives her one last squeeze and scurries his hand back under the sheets. "Okay."

Smiling dejectedly, Phoebe pets his head over the sheets —giving up in her efforts— and then climbs down the mattress to get dressed. She puts Yang's shirt next to Damon's clothes on the other bed and, taking one last look at her twin's form, utters a meek, "See you later," before reluctantly going downstairs.

She really hopes he feels better by the time she comes back...

As she arrives in the kitchen, Phoebe is met by the two women talking by the table. Blake is still wearing her nightwear, a silky-looking violet gown with flower details fancier than any kind of pajamas she’s ever seen. Then again, from what she’s seen of her since their arrival, Blake appears to be the stylish type. And speaking of stylish, she thought _her_ hair was long, but geez… seeing the full lenght of Yang’s wavy golden mane makes even Phoebe impressed.

The moment she crosses the door, they both beam at her.

“Good morning,” Blake greets her with a smile.

“Morning.”

“Where’s your brother?” Yang asks with a furrowed brow, looking behind her.

Phoebe bites her lip, dubious about spilling the beans regarding their little talk from last night, so she settles for telling them a half-truth.

“He hasn’t slept very well, so he said he was gonna stay in bed and sleep a bit more,” she explains nonchalantly, sitting next to Blake after noticing the two mugs of milk on the table, along with the tray of cookies they baked yesterday.

Yang frowns. “Oh…”

“Is he alright? Does he have a stomachache?” the faunus woman asks, her ears dropping slightly in concern.

Phoebe grabs one of the cookies she baked —a star-shaped one with an excessive amount of chocolate chips— and starts dipping it in her milk. “He’s okay, just tired. Yesterday was really crazy for us.”

They both seem to buy it, since their expressions relax once more, but Yang still eyes her with a worried expression. “Then... what are you gonna do? Wanna stay here until he wakes up?”

“Nah, I’m coming along with you,” she declares as she takes a bite of the cookie (tastes awesome, by the way), smirking at the woman, “and this time I get to call shotgun!” 

When Yang took them to Himawari, both she and Damon sat in the back of the car, but now she can have the front passenger seat for herself!

Blake chuckles next to her, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even know _why_ it is called shotgun?”

She heard that expression once, during an episode of Young Huntsmen League, but she doesn’t really know why it’s called like that. “I… uh, well…”

The faunus woman giggles at her expense again, making Phoebe blush and take a huge sip of her milk to hide her embarrassment. Yang bites her lip, trying to contain her own laugh, if only to spare the girl any more teasing (she supposes), and simply grabs a napkin to wipe Phoebe’s mouth after she puts the mug down. It’s a little humiliating, but she’s going to allow it for now.

“You’re going out today, Blake?” the blonde asks all of a sudden, turning to her wife.

The black haired woman shakes her head, leaning back leisurely against the chair and stretching her arms in an —ironically— feline-esque manner. “Not really, I have no more work for now, so I thought I could laze around and catch up with my book.”

“Nice, then I guess we don’t have to worry about leaving Damon alone,” Yang smiles brightly, turning to Phoebe once more, who’s just finished gulping down her milk and regards her with an startled look. “Woah, woah, hey, I thought you wanted to take breakfast nice and slow.”

She did, but that was before knowing her brother wouldn’t be accompanying them. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Yang raises a doubtful eyebrow, but merely shrugs her acceptance. “You ready then?”

Nodding eagerly, Phoebe grabs a couple more cookies —this time making sure that they’re from Yang’s batch— and jumps down from her chair. “Yup!”

“Okay, let’s go!”

The woman stands up as Phoebe skips to the door, lagging behind only for a second to give her wife —who murmurs a small ‘Take care’— a quick peck, and then following the girl out of the kitchen.

“Don’t let her get into trouble,” Blake calls before they get to the front door.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Yang shouts back, picking up the tool boxes —the ones they found yesterday— lying next to the couch and hauling them under her robot arm.

“I was talking to Phoebe.”

“Wha—?!”

Ohhh, savage.

As much as she’d like to hold her laugh —since Yang tried to do the same for her—, she can’t help but let out a little cackle at the blush that takes over the woman’s face. Even so, despite the obvious teasing, the blonde pouts and gets her revenge by aggressively ruffling her hair until her locks are left sticking out in every direction.

“Hey!”

Once she’s satisfied, Yang lets go of her and opens the front door with a toothy grin. “Alright, let’s get going, kiddo.”

Giving the woman an ice cold glare, Phoebe tries to fix her hair for a moment before stepping outside behind her. She helps Yang put the tool boxes in the trunk of her black and yellow convertible —she’s really starting to see a pattern here, by the way—, jumps on the front passenger seat, buckles up and then finally, with a fierce roar of the engine, they get on the road.

  


* * *

  


The trip to Mistral feels shorter than usual, Yang thinks, even though she’s trying to drive at a calmer pace. Phoebe makes some small talk —wearing the shades she so shamelessly took from her—, telling her small snippets of their lives at the orphanage as they cross the bridge over the river that borders the entire city. The vast green meadows start to give way to paved roads and sidewalks littered with people, signaling their arrival in the city's lower districts. The architecture here is rougher, less delicate —if not delicate at all— than what you’d find if you went up a little bit over the side of the mountain, to the more ‘touristy’ part of the city. It feels as if the builders of Mistral had a set amount of quality resources available for the construction of the city, then proceeded to start building it starting from the top, only to find out that they ran out of good materials halfway through, and they had to build the rest using scraps.

But in all honesty, Yang feels more at ease in this kind of place. Even though she’s aware that the crime rate down here is higher, the actual normal everyday people that live here are more… honest? She doesn’t know how to put it, but it has to do with appearances. While some folk from uptown Mistral, much like the more traditional side of Atlas, walk around with fake smiles and good manners to keep up appearances in front of their peers (or anyone they deem ‘equal’), people down here don’t wear any masks. If they don’t give two flying fucks about you, they’re not afraid to tell you.

That blunt honesty, at least, she can appreciate.

It’s not a strict rule, of course. There’s plenty of honest and friendly people in both Atlas and uptown Mistral, but life is easier when you know what to expect from everyone around you.

“And so she forced us to clean the kitchen sinks everyday for a whole week, the old hag,” Phoebe blurts while nibbling at one of the cookies she took, concluding the story of how she, Damon, and a couple of their friends basically raided the orphanage kitchens one night to loot some of the store brand cookie packages, only to be caught red-handed by the janitor.

“Awww, so close,” Yang whistles her disappointment without taking her eyes off the road as the next traffic light turns green. “Even after you managed to get the keys to the dining room!”

The little faunus sighs into the open window as the breeze gently tousles her locks. “We should’ve left someone watching by the door… Ugh, such a stupid mistake.”

Is this seven year old girl seriously regretting not having better tactical awareness?

“I don’t know, seems kinda impressive for a bunch of kids…” she rebukes, letting out an amused giggle.

“Yeah, well, if it had happened now I’m sure we would have pulled it off.”

Yang is about to retort that the so-called ‘Choco-Boogie Operation’ had been one year ago, so there wasn’t really much room for improvement (if only to tease her back after that embarrassing moment with Blake), but then she remembers that they’ve spent the last six months evading the police and basically any authority that could take them back to the orphanage, so… her statement maybe isn’t that far-fetched.

“I’m sure you would. But hey, you have home-made cookies now! That has to be an improvement,” she gushes, looking at her briefly from the corner of the eye.

“An improvement? You kidding?! One of these is worth at least three packs of that cheap garbage Mrs. Darling always ordered!” Phoebe shouts, and then proceeds to wolf down the last cookie in her hand to make her point.

The blonde chuckles, mildly flattered, then gives the girl a knowing look as they come to a stop behind another car. “So, you finally admit that my cookies are the best in the world?”

“Yef, fhey arf,” Phoebe shrugs, putting her arms behind her head and resting against the seat as she swallows. “I admit it, you’re pretty awesome.”

Yang’s witty retort dies in her mouth as the girl’s blunt honesty stuns her silent for a moment. Yesterday they had a bit of a playful debate about how good their cookies were compared to hers, and the whole thing ended with Blake claiming that they were equally good. She had feigned indignation at the time to play along with them, and she thought the girl would do the same now.

The little faunus must have noticed, because she flashes her pointy teeth in a self-satisfied grin, looking at her over the shades. “What? You thought you’d have to beat me at the game to make me say it?”

Judging by the competitive nature the girl showed yesterday and her ‘fiery’ personality overall... yeah, she kinda did.

“I guess? I thought you were more, huh, timid or something when it came to compliments and all that,” she confesses, still taken aback by Phoebe’s sudden praise.

“Not really.”

“Soooo… why now?” Yang asks, honestly curious.

Phoebe shrugs, staring ahead with a pouty face. “Because Damon’s not here. If he were, he wouldn’t let me hear the end of it; he teases me enough as it is...”

Okay, that makes more sense.

She cackles loudly, knowing exactly what she means. “Well, you better get used to it, girl. Trust me, I’m twenty-seven and I’m not gonna stop teasing my baby sister anytime soon.”

The girl merely harrumphs and puts the sunglasses back on, looking away.

When her mirth dies out, Yang glances at her from the corner of the eye with a warm smile. “Thanks, by the way. For the compliment.”

“Don’t mention it,” she can’t see her eyes behind the shades, but during the brief moment that Phoebe turns her head to answer, Yang catches on to the faint pink dusting her cheeks.

They keep driving through the lower district’s main avenue for several more minutes, slowed down by the morning traffic, until they turn a corner and enter a familiar set of streets that makes Phoebe shift in her seat to look outside the window. Although still within the suburbs, this part of the lower district is on the… calmer side so to speak, so —hopefully— the kids never had to face any real danger. She likes to think that burglars and common thieves have a minimum of humanity, at least enough not to pick on two homeless kids who are just trying to survive for a few measly lien.

They’re close to her usual parking place when, out of the blue, Phoebe mumbles, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Huh? Sorry?” Yang wonders, giving her a sideways confused glance. “For what?”

“You know, after the game. We were having so much fun, and I, huh, slipped... “ she explains awkwardly with her arm resting on the window frame, still not looking in Yang's direction. “I didn’t mean to make you and Blake uncomfortable. I just… spoke without thinking.”

“What? No! You didn’t make us uncomfortable, it’s just…” she tries to explain, thinking in a way to justify their reaction. It was a touchy subject at the time, since they still hadn’t made peace ‘officially’, but maybe it’s finally time to lay things out. They deserve to know. “We were still working out what to do with you, and it just, you know, caught us by surprise.”

It’s then when Phoebe gives Yang her full attention, turning towards her and taking off the sunglasses to regard her with a wary look. “ _What to do_? You mean...”

“What you said when we met,” she clarifies. “What to do with you when these ‘couple of days’ were over.”

The girl’s eyes turn sharp. “ _And_?”

Yang shakes her head, immediately dismissing her suspicions. “I told you we would not take you anywhere you don’t want to, and I still mean it. So we’re…” she pauses to take a deep breath, “we’re going to find you both a good home.”

“A… home?” Phoebe asks, eyes wide open.

“Yeah. Blake and I talked and, well, we’re not letting you go back to the streets. We’re gonna find a proper family for you and your brother, so in the meantime, you’ll be staying with us. That’s better than the orphanage, right?” she hopes the girl doesn’t notice the fake excitement in her voice, it’s hard enough she has to try and look happy about the whole prospect.

The faunus keeps her eyes fixated on her, mouth slightly open in surprise. 

Yang is waiting for the girl to light up, to throw her hands in the air and let out a cry of elation at such wonderful news, but it never happens. Instead, Phoebe lowers her gaze and glances away with a conflicted look. The kind of look that makes her worry.

“Aren’t you… happy?” she asks her out loud.

The girl remains silent for a few seconds, deep in thought, and then finally responds, “Y-Yeah, I am. It’s just—” she bites her lip, furrowing her brow, “it’s complicated.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but just so you know… you can trust me with anything,” Yang offers carefully, not wanting to press further and make her close off.

Blowing air through her nose, Phoebe takes a moment to collect her thoughts and then starts speaking. “One of the reasons I had to not leave Mistral with you was… because I was afraid this might happen. N-Not that you would try and find us a home, that’s awesome and I’m really, _really_ grateful,” she quickly clarifies, smiling the slightest bit before her expression sours once more. “I was afraid of what _this_ could do to us.”

Frowning deeply, Yang decides that this requires all of her attention, so she finds a free spot at one side of the road, between two cars, and parks hers there for a moment. Once she’s turned off the engine, she shifts on her seat to face Phoebe and nods at her to continue. “Go on.”

“We agreed that this was just gonna be for a couple of days, a small rest... But then you and Blake go and blow away all of our expectations,” she sighs in frustration, shaking her head. “You’re not just letting us stay at your home and giving us food, you’re not treating us as simple guests. You’re being kind, thoughtful and caring, which is nice, but… it’s _too_ nice. You’re basically giving us _everything_ an orphan wishes for, everything we’ve never had... It’s only natural that we would start to have funny ideas.”

“Look, Phoe—,” Yang stretches her right arm to put a hand on her shoulder, but the girl interrupts her, making her retract it.

“I _know_ it’s selfish to have these thoughts but,” she turns to look at the blonde with a dejected smile, “we can’t help it, especially Damon.”

Yang has a nagging feeling about that last remark. She makes a scowl and cautiously asks, “Does this have anything to do with him staying in bed?”

The tiny snort that escapes from her nose pretty much confirms it. “I was realistic from the beginning... Even with all the fun, the new experiences and everything, I still knew I couldn’t get my hopes up, but Damon never thinks like that. I guess he took all the positivity for himself when we were born,” she chuckles sarcastically. “I realized that when the moment came and we had to go back to the city, he’d be heart-broken. I saw it in his eyes, that wishful thinking, and I… I couldn’t let that happen,” her voice breaks a little bit while saying the last part.

“So you… spoke to him after I left,” Yang deduces, painfully aware of how that little talk might have gone.

Phoebe nods half-heartedly. “I told him to give up on the idea of staying with you, a-and I made him cry,” she wipes the moist from her eyes, sniffing loudly to keep the few tears from falling and starts to play with her hair to calm herself down. “He wants to stay with you more than anything. So even if you find someone nice willing to adopt us, it’s not gonna be the same,” she finally turns to look Yang in the eyes with a defeated expression. “No matter who they are, they’re not gonna be as good as you…”

Her breath gets caught in her throat...

Every inch of her being is screaming at her to tell this girl that she doesn’t want to send them anywhere, that she feels exactly the same and wants nothing more than to fight so they can stay with them. But she can’t... Not only would that be incredibly cruel, taking into consideration that there’s a huge chance they’ll have to leave, but if she tells her that she wants them to stay, it’d be like putting the blame on Blake. And that wouldn’t be right, she doesn’t deserve that. Yang doesn’t know if the kids could understand just how complicated her wife’s feelings are, or if their naïve minds would simply assume that she’s making excuses.

As much as it pains her, she can’t play with their feelings like that; telling the girl would only get her hopes up again.

Yang feels so fucking helpless right now...

There’s nothing she can do or say that could magically solve everything. So, instead, Yang simply stretches her arms to surround the girl, pressing her against her chest. It’s a little awkward since they’re both still in their seats with the gear lever between them, but Phoebe eventually hugs her back without saying a word, just basking in the comfort she’s offering.

She’s not crying, but Yang can feel the stress in her heavy breathing, so she unconsciously starts petting the back of her head to calm her down. “Everything will be alright, I promise.”

As Phoebe’s ragged breathing evens out in response to her touch, she really hopes it will be...

  


* * *

  


It’s not everyday that Blake has the chance to laze around in her nightwear, so when she does, she usually sprawls on the couch and sets a small plate of cinnamon pastries to accompany her tea while she reads a nice book. Not homemade pastries though; she’s really good at cooking —she’d like to think—, but baking has always been more Yang’s forte.

This time should be no different, but it is. The pastries remain untouched on the small table, and Blake herself is lying down on the couch with _The eternal child_ —the last novel from her favorite author— resting on her chest while she simply stares at the ceiling. She’s been trying to read for fifteen minutes now, but no matter how many times she opens the book, her mind eventually drifts off to last night, to her conversation with Yang.

She promised her wife that she would reflect on everything they talked about and, to put it simple, her mind has become a living mess. Part of her still wants to trust Yang, ever since their first argument on the matter, so she tries to think of everything good she could do for the kids by letting them stay. 

Her salary is nothing compared to Weiss’, but it is quite _substantial_ , so providing for them (food, clothing, school) would never be an issue. And Himawari is a nice and peaceful place with a small population, consisting of —mostly— friendly and kind people, so she wouldn’t have to worry about letting them wander around the village (so long as they don’t set foot into the bordering forests). 

And to make things even more complicated, the twins have grown on her _quite_ a lot, just as she predicted! Seriously, it’s like fate is conspiring against her on this. From Damon’s kind-hearted gesture by helping her with the board game, to Phoebe’s embarrassing —yet incredibly adorable— declaration, that she already has stored in her scroll (damn you, Yang!). It’s like the more time she spends with them, the more doubts she has about her initial decision. And honestly, a future where her day to day is similar to what she experienced yesterday… doesn’t sound bad at all.

But then, the other side of her is still afraid to be jumping to conclusions. No matter how much she’s enjoyed their company, it doesn’t mean that she’s going to be a good mother. So what if she had fun playing with them, or if she thinks they’re nice? What happens when the time to be tough comes? What happens when she has to scold them and correct them for something bad they’ve done? Is she prepared for that?

Yang already has the experience of helping her father raise Ruby, but she can’t just let her wife deal with all the problems, can she? That wouldn’t be what a family is supposed to be…

“Argh!” she groans out loud in frustration, tossing the book on the table, where it lands unceremoniously and knocks a few pastries off the plate. Her hands come to rest at her forehead, gently massaging her temples as she tries to make up her mind.

If only she could pray to some higher power to help her make the best choice… This is honestly the kind of problem that deserves its own question to Jinn, even if it was the last one she could grant. If only the blasted Relic was still around…

This is also the kind of doubt that requires a more ‘experienced’ touch, she thinks. Perhaps she should call her parents and tell them, if only to get a second opinion on the matter…

However, her train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the sound of her scroll ringing next to the plate of pastries. Even if it’s probably related to work, she’s glad to hear it for once, since it means she has a chance to focus on something else. With a tired sigh, she sits up on the couch and grabs the device, unfolding the screen and…

‘ _Ilia_ ’

Her hand freezes on the spot, her finger already prepared to accept the call.

…

There’s no way, right? It’s just been one day since she called her, and she even told her there was no hurry whatsoever. There’s no way Ilia’s already… 

But what if she has? Blake promised Yang that she’d think this over until her friend called, but she’s barely had any time to clear her head! She needs more time. If only she could have a few more hours... Her finger hovers tentatively to the hang up button… but she stops mid air. Does she fear what her friend might have to tell her that much, that she’s willing to do something so immature and inappropriate?

No, she only needs to speak with her and tell her how she feels.

Blake takes one look at the top of the stairs to make sure that the coast is clear, stands up and goes to her study for more privacy. There, she finally picks up the call. The face of her life-long friend appears on the other side, her expression only the slightest bit more mature after all these years, but still as warm and good-natured as ever. The low ponytail falling over her shoulder and chest is a nice improvement over her old hairstyle, she always thought.

Her friend’s face turns the faintest shade of red —in the literal sense, funnily enough— as soon as she takes a look at her, making a grimace. “Oops! I was wondering what was taking you so long. Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.”

Blake suddenly notices that she’s still wearing her nightwear and quickly shakes her head with an awkward smile, leaning against the wall to get comfortable. “No, no, it’s okay. I was just… lazing around.”

Ilia’s skin changes back to its original color, and her expression slowly turns into one of smug scolding, pursing her lips. “Oh really? And how’s that opening speech coming along? All wrapped up, I hope.”

“I’ll have you know that I finished it two days ago, and I’ll send it to you as soon as I can to get your input. Also yesterday I finished writing the official letters to each kingdom’s representatives,” excluding Menagerie’s, because those are her own parents. “So yeah, I’m totally free right now,” she snorts, beaming with pride.

Her friend keeps glaring at her for a second, but finally nods her approval, going back to her friendly demeanor. “Okay then.”

One of the reasons Blake had to elect her as part of the FIS committee assembly was her unshakable commitment to duty, which she found out over the years to be pretty scary, nearly brushing Weiss’ level.

“Anyway,” Blake blurts, clearing her voice and preparing herself, “you wanted something?”

“Yeah,” she answers, getting serious, “is it… safe to speak?”

That pretty much confirms her suspicions… Taking one last look at the door of her study, which leads directly to the empty center of the living room, she nods grimmly. “Yes.”

“Well… I did some scouting among the department, and you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve found a potential match,” her friend says with an eager smile, excitement painted on her face.

...

The news feels like a cold shower.

She’s definitely not ready to make her choice right now, and not just because she promised Yang she was going to consider it. She honestly wants to take her time and think about everything carefully, it’s the only fair thing to do. The twins deserve that much.

But still, their future is the most important thing right now, so she wants to know who this potential match might be.

“Tell me,” she beckons her friend to continue, her mouth set in a straight line.

“His name is Cooper Icamata, thirty-six years old, happily married and father of a five year old boy,” Ilia summarizes from memory. “Natural son, in case you’re wondering.”

Blake nods, assimilating the information. The fact that they’ve already been parents is a plus in itself, since that makes them more experienced than she is. “Why are they considering adoption now?”

“Apparently they both wanted to have more kids, but Cooper told me he’d recently gone through a rather delicate medical condition. He told me a little bit about it, something hereditary with low chances of occurring but… well, that’s life I guess,” she explains with a sad shrug of the shoulders. “Anyway, the point is that the condition left him sterile, but they’re still interested in having more kids.”

That’s… unfortunate for him, but it makes sense from their point of view to seek adoption. It also shows that they’re kind and open-minded enough not to care about such things as blood relationships. And if he works at the personnel department, he probably wouldn’t have much problem providing for the kids…

There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong about them for now, which is both a relief and a little tough for her, since it makes her turn more and more towards her initial idea…

There’s something that’s bugging her, however. She can’t shake off the feeling that she’s familiar with the name somehow.

“Do I know him? The name kind of rings a bell…” she wonders, touching her chin.

“Actually, yeah. Although it’s unlikely you’d remember him, you’ve only met once, according to him,” Ilia points out, raising a finger. “It was five years ago, during the opening of Vacuo’s office. Says he attended with her wife, who was expecting at the time.”

“I see.”

Blake has met a good deal of people over the time she’s served as committee chairwoman to the FIS, more than she’s capable of remembering, sadly. It feels bad not being able to put a face to this couple, but nevertheless, if she’s going to consider them as an option, she’d like to talk to them in person. She _is_ going to talk to them in person, period, if they’re really interested in adopting the kids.

However, before she has a chance to tell Ilia to arrange a meeting…

“V-Vacuo?”

The voice is but a murmur, low and strangled, but close enough that Blake is able to hear it clearly. She’s staring at her scroll, watching Ilia’s face suddenly contort —her skin turning pale white— as her eyes go wide and she takes her free hand to cover her mouth.

After enduring the horrors of the Vesper March and the life-scarring trials that Salem made them go through until her very end, Blake’s certain that there’s few things in this world that can make her blood freeze.

This seems to be one of them...

Stepping closer to the threshold of the door —and holding the scroll to her chest as if she could make the whole thing disappear if she pressed hard enough—, Blake timidly peeks into the living room, or more specifically, to the top of the stairs right above the door.

Confirming her worst suspicions, Damon is crouched near the top, looking down at her with disheveled hair and Yang’s wrinkled shirt.

It’s his desolate eyes, however, which strikes her the most.

“Are you… sending us to Vacuo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, why am I such a drama queen?! I just want my babies to be happy! t.t


	12. Ep I: Ending

The both of them remain frozen in place, staring at each other in silence for a couple of seconds that, to Blake, feel like an eternity. Damon is waiting for an answer, with his eyes and cheeks turning redder and redder with each passing second, and Blake for the life of her just doesn’t know what to say to him.

Her mind is in complete disarray and unable to think straight. She didn’t expect to have this conversation right now, not when she’s still in the middle of her emotional struggle to make a choice. But she can’t stay silent anymore, she needs to say something.

“Y-You’re awake…” she blurts out awkwardly without even thinking, instantly chastising herself for making such a stupid observation.

Damon lowers his gaze, biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands, which barely reach out of the shirt sleeves. “I went to the bathroom and… I heard voices. I knew Phoebe and Yang had left, s-so I got curious,” he stutters with an ashamed expression, not meeting her eyes. “I didn’t... mean to listen in.”

That’s her fault, she should’ve been more careful. Blake simply assumed that he’d still be sleeping. She’s so used to sharing everything with Yang, to hold no secrets from each other, that she’s grown unfamiliar with the feeling of having to hide something from those around her. The last time she felt like that was probably during her first weeks at Beacon, all those years ago... 

If only she had closed the door to her study, maybe... 

In her silence, Damon finally looks at her again. “Is it true? Are you really…?”

But there’s no going back now. She can’t turn the situation around to make him believe she was talking about something else or that he somehow misheard their conversation. The only path remaining is to be honest and try to explain the circumstances to him as delicately as possible… and hope he understands.

“Damon look, I… I just want the best for you both and—,” she starts, trying to speak as softly as she can, but it’s obviously not the answer he wished for, because he lets out a strangled sob and suddenly stands up, running upstairs in a hurry. “Damon!”

But he doesn’t stop even when she calls his name.

Her ears drop in frustration, realizing that logic may not be the best way to approach this kind of subject with a kid. But she still needs to talk to him, there’s no way she’s letting things as they are. She spares a second to peek at her scroll. Ilia is still there, looking distressed —her skin painted a deep and awkward shade of blue—, and the moment she sees Blake again she shakes her head dejectedly. “I’m... sorry”

“It’s my fault,” she assures her friend, frowning. “I have to talk with him.”

Ilia tries to think of something to say, but at the end only manages a weak “Good luck…”

After ending the call and stashing the scroll in one of her pockets, she takes a deep breath and goes upstairs in search of the boy.

She doesn’t have to look around too much, because as soon as she arrives at the second floor she sees the door to the storeroom open and hears a low murmur coming from inside. Stepping into the room, Blake immediately finds Damon sitting at one corner, embracing his knees to his chest and with his head propped on top of them; the way the shirt covers his body entirely in that position makes him look even smaller than he is.

It’s no surprise that the low sound she heard was his muffled crying, but she still feels awkward approaching him like this, like she’s walking into unknown territory. She just doesn’t want to mess up her words again and make everything worse; after seeing nothing but his cheerful and sunny attitude for nearly two days, witnessing this breakdown is literally killing her.

This, she thinks, is exactly the reason why she believes she’s not fit for this responsibility yet. Yang would have such an easier time than her dealing with this situation. Her wife has always been skilled at talking directly from the heart. Blake, on the other hand, still has a long way to go...

That doesn’t stop her from trying, though. She’s not about to abandon a crying child when she has a chance to help him however she can.

Despite the dust covering the floor —and the fact that she’s wearing her favourite nightwear—, Blake doesn’t hesitate to sit down next to the boy, moving slowly as she does, afraid to scare him off like a little fawn. He doesn’t move away —to her relief—, and doesn’t reject her touch when she puts a hand on the small of his back, caressing it in circles.

She’s not sure for how long they stay like that, but she remains silent and simply waits for the kid to feel better so they can talk more easily. Thankfully, Damon starts to calm down after a few minutes, his sobbing reduced to a few occasional hiccups and sniffs here and there.

“I-It’s all my fault…” he finally speaks, his voice choked and muffled against his knees.

“What? No, it’s not,” Blake states in a serious tone, furrowing her brow.

The boy raises his head at last, albeit weakly, staring ahead of him to the messy room. His eyes are puffy and he has to wipe his running nose several times with the sleeve. “It’s just like last time…”

“What are you talking about?” she asks worriedly, receiving a nervous shake of the head as the only response. “Damon, look at me.” She begs, putting a hand on his cheek and making him turn around to look at her. But even so, he lowers his head and refuses to meet her eyes.

This is far more serious than she imagined, there’s no doubt. There is something unmistakingly familiar about his body language —the way he avoids her gaze and shrinks away— that throws her back to the past, to the moment when she was at her lowest, at her weakest, to a time when she felt an overwhelming weight on her shoulders.

Guilt.

But... why?

As if reading her very thoughts, Damon finally starts speaking in a quiet tone. “A couple came to the orphanage six months ago. They said they... They said they just wanted Phoebe, but she—” he stifles a hiccup, “she stayed for _me_.”

Her eyes widen in horrible realization. Yang told her about the reason the twins had to run away, how the Headmistress had decided to separate them —based on the pretense that it would be harder to find them a home since they were faunus— and let the couple adopt the girl while the boy stayed behind, hoping that it would be easier to find someone to adopt him later on.

But there’s no way he’s...

“I-If I had been better, if I had been good enough… maybe they would’ve wanted to adopt me too,” he mumbles, tears swelling up in his eyes once more. “She had to give up on everything because of me! She had to live on the streets and go hungry because of me!”

Blake’s stuck with her mouth open and her ears flat against her head, horrified by the boy’s confession.

“I thought this time was different, I thought you _really_ liked us,” he goes on, finally raising his head to focus his watery eyes on her. “ _What_ is wrong with me?”

The worst part is that it’s not a rhetorical question, he sounds like he genuinely wishes to understand.

It’s simply… awful. Those people who tried to adopt Phoebe were probably looking for a single kid, and she just happened to be the one to suit their fancy. But either they didn’t realize what that would mean for her sibling… or they didn’t care. ‘Why just her and not both of us?’ it’s probably what went through his mind at that moment, a question he wouldn’t have had to face if they had been considerate enough to pick any of the other orphans the moment they found out the girl had a twin, or if they at least considered the possibility of adopting both. But no, they tried to take her and leave him behind.

Of course he would start to question his own worth after something like that...

Her hands move on their own, cupping Damon’s face and wiping the tears from his eyes. Blake stares back at him with sharp, equally teary eyes, and declares, “I like you, we both do,” she clarifies. “There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Damon.”

But despite her honest words, he shuts his eyes and shakes his head in stubborn denial. “T-Then why can’t we stay?” he asks dejectedly, almost begging. “Why… am I never good enough for anyone?”

Blake’s expression turns sour, not because of him, but because of the unfairness of the whole situation. There’s definitely something wrong with the world when such a gentle kid thinks so little of himself... And she’s not going to allow it to continue for one more minute. She’s going to make sure he understands the true reason behind her actions.

She rubs his cheeks with her thumbs, wiping away a few more tears and making him look at her once more; he needs to be looking her in the eyes when she tells him this. “You _are_ more than good enough. It’s just that I don’t know if—”

Her mouth stops mid-sentence and her whole body freezes, as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning, but her unspoken words still echo in her mind, beating like a drum.

‘It’s just that I don’t know if _I am_.’

...

And it suddenly occurs to her… just how self-contradictory that reason really is. How can she possibly use that argument to rebuke his, when they’re exactly the same? It makes no sense. But she needs to find a way to convey the truth to him, to make him understand that she’s the one that’s—

…

The realization comes out of nowhere, but... seeing it now, she wonders how she didn't notice it sooner.

Now it makes sense.

It’s more than the guilt he’s feeling that’s familiar to her. He went through something that indirectly caused the suffering of his most loved one, something that was completely out of his control, but something that made him extremely self-conscious as a result. It’s hardly on par with what she went through during the Fall of Vale and the months after, but at the core, what both events meant for them as individuals… it’s basically the same.

It’s like seeing a tiny version of both her past and current self. Her deepest insecurities and fears laid bare right in front of her.

In Blake’s eyes he’s but another victim in this, and that which is invisible to him it’s clear as day to her; that he’s worth _far_ more than he can imagine. It feels unbelievable how this boy can’t realize something so evident to anyone who spends but ten minutes with him (although she’s sure that not many people have done so besides her and Yang in a long time).

Then again, it’s the same for her, right? No matter how much Yang praised her or tried to make her aware of her ‘many qualities’, Blake merely dismissed it as her wife being blinded by her feelings.

Huh… ironically, she has turned out to be the blind one.

“Blake...?” Damon asks with a worried tone, placing one of his hands over hers on his cheek to snap her out of her thoughts. Her eyes focus on him once more, and the tiniest of smiles tugs at her lips as her ears timidly perk up.

If Damon is wrong about himself, and she knows for certain that he is, then maybe… maybe she is wrong about herself too.

The boy lets out a little yelp when she embraces him all of a sudden, his hands hovering awkwardly at her sides for a moment before finally settling on her back. She can feel the dampness on her shoulder from where he’s resting his face, staining her nightwear, but she doesn’t care in the slightest; she’s too busy realizing just how stupid she’s been.

But not anymore.

“We are good enough,” she whispers while petting the back of his head, then proceeds to repeat it to make sure it’s engraved into both of their stubborn skulls, “we _are_ good enough.”

He remains rigid for a moment, probably confused by the sudden shift in her demeanor, but then she feels him slowly leaning into the hug with an exhausted sigh, hugging just as tightly and clinging to her for dear life; he still has a few minor hiccups, but thankfully he’s not trembling anymore. Blake herself has never been a ‘touchy’ person, not like Yang or Ruby at least. It takes a while for her to feel comfortable enough around someone to show that kind of physical intimacy. It may be because Damon is a kid, or because he’s as vulnerable as her, but this feels easy, this feels right.

When Blake finally pulls away, the boy still gives her a concerned look, like he doesn’t quite dare to believe just yet. He watches her carefully, but she simply smiles kindly in return. It seems he needs something more straightforward, so Blake fishes her scroll out again and calls Ilia right under his puzzled gaze.

Her friend must’ve kept her scroll nearby in her anxiousness, since she picks up the call almost a second after Blake dials her number. Her face appears on the screen, brows furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “H-Hey… how did it—?”

“Ilia, can you do me a favor?” she interrupts her.

“Huh? I, uh... y-yeah?”

Blake lowers her scroll a little bit to make sure she’s looking straight into Damon’s eyes, smiling knowingly. “Can you apologize to Cooper on my behalf and tell him that I’ve already found a good home for the kids?”

Upon hearing it, Damon’s big emerald eyes widen and start to get glassy with renewed hope. She nods at his unspoken question and the next thing she knows he’s rammed into her arms once more, nearly making her drop the scroll. This time the boy doesn’t even try to contain his sobs, he weeps into her shoulder completely unrestrained. But she knows that these are not bitter tears, that’s probably why she can’t stop smiling…

“Blake?”

Without letting go of Damon, she regards her friend again. From the other side of the line, Ilia’s grinning at her with such puppy eyes that one could mistake her for a child too.

“Yes?”

“I’ll take care of it,” the brunette says all too happy, mouthing a silent “congratulations”.

Blake sighs and smirks at her. “Thanks, Ilia... for everything.”

She feels a little bad for making her go through all the effort only for it to end like this… But maybe it was for the better. If Ilia hadn’t called her when she did, Blake may have never had this heart-to-heart with the boy, and she could still be struggling with her own fears. Truth be told, she’s still dead nervous about this, but now she’s completely determined; she knows this is the right choice.

“Anytime, Blake,” Ilia waves her goodbye while giving her a playful wink. “Just call me whenever you have time to, you know, catch up.”

And she’s sure next time she’ll have a whole lot of news to tell her...

“I will. See you,” she nods one last time to her and then hangs up, feeling Damon softly pulling away from the hug. The small faunus boy looks up to her, smiling for the first time today and in a way that washes away whatever few worries she may have remaining. After this roller coaster of emotions his face is a complete mess —flushed nose, red puffy eyes and swollen cheeks—, and yet he looks the happiest she’s seen him in these two days.

“I have to warn you, I’m sure I will make mistakes along the way,” she says with an apologetic smile, reaching out to wipe a few remaining tears from his face, a motion that by this point has become almost natural to her. “I’m not perfect.”

Damon lets out something between a hiccup and a tiny snort, and shakes his head while wiping his nose, looking at her like she’d just told him a silly joke. “We don’t want perfect…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t really need to… 

Blake can’t contain a small giggle, feeling a strange warmth bubbling inside of her chest, an emotion she can most definitely get used to. After a long while of being sat on the floor, the faunus stands up, dusts her nightgown and stretches her arms before offering her hand to the kid, who takes it immediately and gets on his feet as well.

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do,” she declares, unfolding her scroll and gesturing Damon to follow her out of the storeroom. “Come on, you have to help me with this.”

  


* * *

  


The visit to Bob’s place wasn’t as quick as Yang thought it would be, but it ended up being absolutely worth it. 

Good news is, the old geezer actually found her proposition to be pretty legit. It was a little bit below the belt, since she would be accepting some of his assignments, taking care of them in her garage, and then he’d charge the customers as if he’d done the job himself, which was the sole reason people uptown went to that shithole in the suburbs in the first place; they’re aware that he knows his craft better than most first-class weaponsmiths. She’d have to do a convincing job if they wanted the customers to buy the lie, but Bob had seen enough of her skill to know that she was capable enough to do a decent work.

After a very tough haggle, they both agreed that she would start cashing in 70% of each assignment, and as time went on and she got better they could talk about gradually raising the profit. That’s actually more than she expected from the mulish old man, to be honest, but she wasn’t gonna complain.

He then went over her tool boxes, writing down everything she was going to need to set up her little working place. Weaponsmithing is a little bit more than just doing maintenance, which is what she’s accustomed to, so it didn’t come as a surprise that she still lacked some equipment, but fortunately it wasn’t that much; she wouldn’t need to empty her pockets to get started. And speaking of getting started, she’s already taken her first two assignments to get her feet wet with the job. Just a couple of rifles of the mistralian police force in need of calibration and a few component changes, but enough to help her get back in business.

So yeah, the morning had been really fruitful for Yang and her plans for the future. But it hadn’t been fruitful just for her, she thinks while glancing at her co-pilot, who’s placidly watching the cars passing past them as they make their way back to the village. She’s wearing Yang’s shades again, but this time at the blonde’s request; she seemed to enjoy wearing them on the way to Mistral. 

The visit to Bob’s workshop had given Phoebe the chance to get her mind off things, if only for a little while, especially when it turned out that the old man was actually acquainted with the twins, to Yang’s surprise. It’s understandable, considering the fact that one of the spots the kids frequented was really close to his place, but that possibility never occurred to her. Apparently, Bob was one of the few people that had actually stopped to talk with them at some point. Since the twins were always on the move to avoid the police, never staying in the same spot for too long, they’d only met Bob for a couple of times, but that was probably enough for them to remember the guy.

The girl was a little bit on the defensive during the whole exchange, seemingly more interested in wandering around the place and looking at his stuff than interacting with the man. It was evident by her sudden bashfulness that, despite having talked with him before, she didn’t really trust him enough to be more natural around him, which _may_ or _may not_ have filled Yang with a little bit of self-satisfaction, knowing that she was well past the little imp’s defenses by now.

She clearly was if the girl felt comfortable enough to open her heart to her like she had done nearly two hours ago. It felt great knowing that the kids harboured the same feelings as her, but seeing how much it pained them to drown that hope and be realistic about the situation... that really hurt.

But, well… At least she managed to calm her down for now, even if the girl is less rowdy and talkative than usual, which still makes her worry. And there’s also Damon, who —according to his sister— is having a much more difficult time dealing with all this. It might be a good idea to check on him as soon as they arrive...

But she also needs to focus on her promise with Blake and how to make her stubborn wife see sense once and for all before Ilia calls. A good old RWBY therapy session comes to mind. Ruby and Weiss will probably be more than glad to join in, and maybe between the three of them they can finally get through the faunus’ thick skull. It would mean that she’d have to break the news about her retirement to Ruby earlier than intended but… it’s a price she’s willing to pay.

As she makes a mental note of calling them later, they pass by the small and humble signboard that announces the entrance of Himawari village. Their house is one of the closest to the border that faces Mistral, so it doesn’t take too long to get home once they’ve entered the village.

Phoebe, who’s been silent for most of the return trip, shifts on her seat to look ahead of them when the house shows up in the distance.

“Are you expecting a visit?” she suddenly asks.

“Huh? No, why?” Yang replies, arching a brow.

“There’s a car in front of your garage,” the girl merely states, pointing her finger ahead of them.

The sun is still not at its highest, and she’s not wearing her shades, so she has to squint her eyes a little bit to distinguish the shape in the distance. But, just as Phoebe says, there’s a gray car parked next to the house; a car that Yang is not familiar with at all. 

She has a bad feeling about this…

“It’s probably someone from the FIS,” she quickly tells the girl so she doesn’t start worrying, even though she’s unable to stop her own treacherous thoughts. She trusts Blake, she wouldn’t have… Not without telling her.

Phoebe simply hums half-heartedly, what she assumes it’s in acknowledgment, and relaxes against the seat once more. But Yang can’t shake off the weird feeling in her chest and speeds up unconsciously to arrive as soon as possible. She parks her car next to the other one and they both get out immediately, not even caring to get the tool boxes and the rifles out. That can wait.

The moment they reach the front door, Yang takes a quick peek through the window and sees both Blake and Damon sitting on the couch —none of them wearing their nightwear— while talking to someone, but she can’t quite make out who it is since her wife is in the way. The woman has her back turned to the window, but the boy is sitting in a way that lets him notice their arrival. His green eyes light up upon seeing Yang and he jumps down from the couch and rushes to the door.

“Do you know who it is?” Phoebe asks her while taking off the shades, standing in front of the entrance. There’s a strange sense of urgency in her voice.

The blonde shakes her head helplessly before she joins her. “No.”

Damon opens the door for them a second later, smiling widely and moving aside to let them enter. “Hi, you’ve arrived just in time! Come in!”

He’s… certainly not as devastated as Phoebe put it, although his face seems a little bit flushed and there’s a definite redness around his eyes that can only mean that he’s been crying not long ago. Yang glances at the girl from the corner of the eye and, sure enough, she’s eyeing her brother like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

Just what is going on?

Yang proceeds into the house first, ruffling Damon’s hair as she passes by. “Good morning, kiddo.”

He grins in response and goes to meet his twin behind her, while Yang finally glances at the other two persons in the room. Blake turns to look at her and smiles just as purely as the boy, while the woman sitting next to her and sipping at a cup of coffee gives Yang a curious and rather inquisitive look. She’s definitely older than them —perhaps around her father’s age—, has short and nicely trimmed hair and huge round glasses, and wears distinctive Mistralian robes.

“Oh, we have a visit?” Yang casually asks while taking off her coat, faking unconcern.

“Yes, let me introduce you,” her wife replies merrily, standing up from the couch along with the woman, “this is—”

“Mrs. Darling…?”

Phoebe’s voice is but a whisper, but there’s something in her tone that makes the blonde look back at her. The girl’s eyes are wide and her skin has gone pale, a reaction Yang has seen plenty of times in her life in the faces of countless people, all as a response to some sort of unexpected threat.

Wait a second... Darling? Wasn’t that the name of…?

She has no time to react before the girl abruptly latches on to her twin’s wrist and takes off running out of the house, completely undeterred by Damon’s yelp of protest.

“Wait!” she shouts, springing to action and running after them without even sparing a look at her wife and the woman.

“It’s okay sis, it’s not what you think!” Damon yells, trying to reason with her, but to no avail.

Despite Phoebe’s clear panic and how much she pulls from her twin, they’re just kids and Yang is a former Huntress, so they don’t even make it out of the house plot before she catches them and blocks their way with her arms outstretched.

“Phoebe, calm down!” she exclaims.

But the girl holds onto her brother even tighter —who’s struggling against her for the chance to speak—, as if fearing to be separated from him the moment she lets go. She glares at Yang, baring her fangs threateningly. “You promised! You told me you wouldn’t take us anywhere we don’t want to! But you’ve called—!” she suddenly shrieks in pain, jumping away from Damon after he straight up bites her, and massaging her arm, “hey, what gives?!”

The boy is frowning at his sibling while rubbing his own wrist, fangs bared as well. “I’m trying to tell you, Mrs. Darling is not here to take us away! Blake called her to take care of everything!”

“Take care of _what_?!” Phoebe rebukes with an obstinate look.

“The adoption.”

Three heads turn towards the front door, where Blake is standing, smiling apologetically.

Yang isn’t sure she heard right, or if something in her head malfunctioned, but she slowly lowers her arms as she makes sure that she didn’t just imagine those words coming out of her wife’s mouth. “What did you just say?”

She shrugs sheepishly. “Adoption?”

Phoebe seems just as lost as her, judging by her befuddled expression. “B-But, you mean… you mean with…?”

Blake walks down the front steps to join them, staring at the girl with an awkward look. “With us… if you want.”

The girl takes a step back, frowning. “T-That’s not funny... you can’t joke about that,” she stammers while shaking her head, her voice breaking a little bit.

“It’s not a joke, sis. She really means it,” Damon reassures her, taking her hands in his. Phoebe keeps shaking her head for a moment, not wanting to believe, but soon her lips start twitching as her eyes get red and watery. She suppresses a hiccup and lowers her head, holding back her tears, which makes her twin get closer and put his hands on her shoulder. “N-No, Phoebe, please… Stop! Y-You’re gonna make me…”

“I can’t help it, d-dummy...” whatever little trace of gall she has left fades away as she breaks down, hugging her brother —who gladly reciprocates— out of sheer emotion. Soon they’re both on their knees over the grass, weeping quietly into each other's shoulders between the two women.

It’s gut-wrenching, and Yang feels the sudden instinct to kneel down next to the twins and hug the two of them as hard as she can, but she refrains; they don’t need comfort right now. This is the moment they’ve been dreaming of their entire lives, they deserve to enjoy it by themselves. Instead, she looks up to her wife, wondering just what the hell happened during these two hours they’ve been to the city that changed her mind (not that she’s complaining, but damn it if seeing reason earlier wouldn’t have spared the four of them a lot of trouble). Blake’s golden eyes stare back at her, her lips turning shily upwards and ears dropped in embarrassment.

“So… leap of faith, huh?” she asks, glancing momentarily to the kids before locking eyes with Yang again, “I really hope you’re packing a parachute.”

She can’t hold herself anymore and throws herself at her wife, chuckling, hugging, kissing, a weird combination of the three, and basically anything that helps her vent all this happiness that’s just exploding out of her. Blake responds in kind, surrounding her shoulders and nesting her face into the crook of her neck.

“I’ve been an idiot… I’m sorry,” she whispers remorsefully, rubbing her cheek against her jaw.

Yang shushes her, shaking her head while stroking her wife’s back. All that matters is that she realized her error before it was too late. She has no idea what sort of miracle managed to wash away all of her fears, but right now she doesn’t care. 

They’re together in this…

She glances at the twins, still in each other's arms, and at the small dreamy smiles on their faces despite their tear-stained cheeks.

… the four of them.

  


* * *

  


“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?!”

Blake and Yang are sitting on the couch, watching awkwardly as the Headmistress of the _Lionheart Home for Children_ —previously known simply as the Mistral Orphanage— lectures the kids for running away. Phoebe and Damon stand in front of her, heads lowered and holding hands, completely defenseless before Mrs. Darling’s wrath. Blake really wants to intervene, if only because she sympathizes so much with them, it’s almost like the woman is admonishing her too. But as right as they were to leave so they could stay together, it’s still something that could have ended very badly for them.

“We spent weeks searching for you two! Part of the staff had to work overtime while the rest looked for you on the streets!” Mrs. Darling exclaims.

The twins flinch, looking at each other in silence.

“And then the police comes after two months to tell me we should give up the search. You know how _that_ made me feel?!” she goes on, her voice breaking. “I thought you were dead!”

Damon keeps looking down in shame, but Phoebe raises her head enough to glare defiantly at the woman. “You gave us no choice…”

Mrs. Darling frowns, and is about to rebuke something, but Yang beats her to it. “She’s right, lady. You put them between a rock and a hard place, what did you expect them to do? Stand there while you separate them from each other?” she asks sarcastically while folding her arms, obviously displeased with the Headmistress.

Blake puts a hand on top of her wife’s. “Yang…”

“You think it pleased me to make that choice? I don’t believe you understand just how dire our situation is, Miss Xiao Long,” Mrs. Darling turns to the blonde, raising a hand to her chest, offended. “The Council has always provided us with a meager economic aid, ever since the orphanage’s opening seventy years ago. Our major financial support has always been Haven Academy’s generous donations, but after the Grimm War ended everything started to go downhill. There was a massive influx of orphaned children from all corners of the kingdom and we were quickly overwhelmed,” she sighs, glancing away. “I appealed to the Council to increase its aid, but they said the kingdom funds were scarce after the war.”

Yang shuts her mouth, whatever response she had dying in her mouth, and bites her lip in frustration, shaking her head with a deep scowl.

“When Headmaster Pine was chosen, he raised the Academy’s monthly donations but… as time went on and Huntsmen were less and less demanded, he just couldn’t afford to give us that much money,” Mrs. Darling concludes, turning to the twins with sorrowful eyes. “I know it wasn’t fair, but I can’t afford to be finicky when there’s a chance to find a home for any of you. It’s... sad, but I must do that which helps the orphanage provide for everyone. Every lien counts...”

Phoebe holds her gaze for a moment, then clenches her teeth and looks away. She doesn’t seem convinced, but at least she doesn’t glare at the woman anymore.

“Okay, I can sort of understand that... But why did you tell them it was because they were faunus?” Yang adds, peeking at Blake from the corner of the eye. She stares back at her, but doesn’t say anything and simply awaits to hear Mrs. Darling’s response.

The bespectacled woman sighs again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m _not_ a racist, Miss Xiao Long, if that’s what you’re suggesting. A good part of the children residing within our walls are faunus, and we try to help all of them in equal manner. But I’m well aware of the many flaws of our society, and after nineteen years as head of our institution, I can guarantee that the ratio of adoption still leans towards human kids, even today. Not by much, but it’s a fact.”

“That’s awful,” the blonde hisses.

“That’s my fault,” Blake comments grimmly, “it’s been ten years since the White Fang disbanded, but I still haven’t been able to right their wrongs. People still distrust and fear faunus because of our mistakes.”

Yang puts a hand on her thigh, her expression softening. “You’re too hard on yourself, Blake…”

“Well... although not as much as humans, faunus children are adopted much more than they were twenty, even ten years ago,” Mrs. Darling says, looking at her with sympathy, “so I’d say you must be doing something right, Miss Belladonna.”

“Thank you…”

That brings her some solace... Perhaps in a few more years the barrier between species will be completely shattered and the FIS will no longer be necessary. That would leave her with no job, but she would start planting potatoes with a smile on her face if it meant achieving her dream. Nonetheless, there’s still a long way to go to make Remnant a better place, and she will work herself to the bone to make it happen.

And speaking of which...

“This goes a little beyond what the FIS usually does, but maybe we can help with your problem,” Blake then ventures with a determined expression.

The woman’s eyes light up in surprise. “You… You think?”

“Blake has to deal with all four Councils on a daily basis, she knows them like the back of her hand,” Yang says, smirking at her and patting her shoulder. “If someone can squeeze money out of those misers for a good cause, it’s my wife.”

She chuckles lightly, jabbing the blonde lightly on the side. “That’s a nice way of putting it, but yeah, we may be able to press them into being a bit more generous with… the right motivation. A small documentary perhaps, showing Mistral the conditions in which you have to take care of the children, interviews with the staff… That will put the people on your side, and the Council will have to heed your demands, unless they want to lose the favor of their citizens.”

“T-That’s…” Mrs. Darling stammers, blinking in shock.

“Geez, you’re one scary lady,” Phoebe whistles with a praising look, making Damon and Yang chuckle.

“Furthermore, we can advertise the orphanage throughout the personnel of the FIS to help you find families for as many kids as possible. I’m sure there’s a lot of people in our group looking for adoption right now,” she makes eye contact with Damon and the boy immediately beams at her with a knowing smile.

Mrs. Darling is staring at her with her mouth agape, completely frozen. She snaps out of her stupor and fixes her glasses, regarding Blake with an expression befitting someone who’s just won the lottery. “I-I don’t know what to say, that would help us _so_ much… I don’t know how— I just can’t—”

“It’s okay,” she reassures her with an amused grin, “I’ll arrange everything with the committee as soon as I can and the FIS will get in contact with you.”

“T-Thank you… Thank you so much.”

Damon steps close to the Headmistress and gives her sleeve a little tug. “I told you they were awesome!” he chirps.

The older woman looks down at him for a second and then snorts, smiling for the first time since she arrived. “Yes, it seems they really are.”

“Yang hasn’t done anything though…” Phoebe shrugs, smiling wickedly at the blonde.

“What did you say, you little brat?!” the blonde snaps, standing up and playfully ruffling the girl’s hair. But instead of growling her displeasure like Blake assumes she would, Phoebe snickers at her touch with cherry coloured cheeks, clearly enjoying the attention. It makes her smile to see how at ease she’s with them now compared to two days ago.

Mrs. Darling then claps her hands together, and suggests, “Well then, should we get the paperwork in order?”

Blake nods, standing up from the couch and gesturing to the big table in the living room. “Yes, please take a seat.”

She and Yang sit down together, with the woman sitting across them as she unfolds a serious amount of documents with all sorts of legal responsibilities and terms they have to accept to complete the procedure. She’s also brought with her the twins’ belongings, although that word probably isn’t very accurate in this case, as they’re merely the things they had on them when they were abandoned by the orphanage’s doorstep when they were babies. She doesn’t know why, but just staring at it rubs Blake the wrong way…

Phoebe and Damon are sitting by the corner of the table, between the couple and the Headmistress, looking down to the dusty double baby buggy with a distant expression. Inside one of the chairs there are two tiny pajamas with their names sewn into them and a small note that reads ‘ _Please, take care of them_ ’ in messy and erratic letters. There isn’t a name or address, nor anything that could lead to whoever abandoned them, but Blake guesses that’s only to be expected.

She can imagine certain ‘extreme’ circumstances that could lead a person to do such a thing as abandoning their children but, well, at least they tried to leave the kids with someone that would take care of them instead of simply… She doesn’t even want to think about it.

They’re with her and Yang now, they’re safe… and that’s all that matters.

As they finish filling out every document and signing every paper, Mrs. Darling reaches for one last sheet and begins to fill it out herself when she suddenly looks up to them with a questioning look, fumbling with the pen in her fingers. “So… Since you both kept your last names after the marriage, you need to agree which one is gonna be theirs,” she points to the kids, who suddenly perk up and look at the couple with a curious gaze. “Unless you want to combine both of your names into one, that is. It’s the most popular option nowadays.”

Blake turns to her wife, who makes an instante grimace, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah… as much as I like the sound of that, Belladonna-Xiao Long sounds just _horrifying_.”

That it does… Their separate names are enough of a tongue twister as they are to even think of putting them together. They faced this same question after they married, and they made up their minds almost instantly; unsurprisingly, both of their families agreed.

“They would spend an eternity every time they had to write _that_ down,” she snorts with flushed cheeks, nodding to the blonde before eyeing the kids with a smile. “I think it’s fair to let them choose which one they want to use.”

“Yup,” Yang agrees, turning to them as well. “Okay kids, Belladonna or Xiao Long?”

Suddenly on the spot, the twins look at each other and take a hand to their chins, deep in thought.

“Well…” Phoebe starts, glancing at Blake and sporting a faint blush, “Belladonna does sound _very_ stylish.”

She giggles, giving the girl a knowing look. “You think?”

“Ohhh! Can I be a Xiao Long then?!” Damon blurts excitedly, staring at the blonde and practically bouncing in his chair.

“Yes! Yes you can, buddy!” she chuckles, stretching her arm to pinch his cheek.

The Headmistress arches an eyebrow, looking amused. “Then… is it official, kids?”

They look at each other one more time, and they both smile widely, their choices seemingly clear. “Yeah, I’m Damon Xiao Long, the one and only!” the boy declares with his arms up, earning a happy squeal from Yang, who latches onto her to keep herself from melting into a puddle.

“And I’m Phoebe… Phoebe Belladonna!” his sister follows with her arms crossed, trying to look cool and edgy.

Blake doesn’t squeal like her wife, but judging by the tingly feeling she gets in her chest, she can more than understand what Yang is experiencing right now; hearing the girl embracing her new last name… makes her strangely happy.

“I guess that settles it,” Mrs. Darling chuckles, filling out the last details. After she’s done with all the paper, she hands them a few of the documents for them to keep and turns to the kids with an apologetic smile. “You know, I’m still mad for what you did, even if I… really gave you no other choice. But I’m glad everything worked out for you in the end, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darling,” Damon murmurs, smiling at her before his expression turns regretful. “And sorry…”

“Yeah... we didn’t mean to hurt anyone…” Phoebe adds, eyes downcast.

The woman stares at them for a moment like a disapproving parent would —and in a way Blake assumes that’s what she was for them, more or less—, before she sighs with a tired smile and leans back on the chair, regarding the four of them with a gentle expression. “Anyway, how about a picture to commemorate the occasion?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, come on!” Yang gushes at them, standing up and flourishing her hair. “We need to immortalize this moment!”

“Okay,” Blake smiles, following her.

“A picture? I don’t like taking pictures, I never know what kind of face to make,” Phoebe protests, playing with one of her locks in a bashful manner.

But Damon jumps down and yanks her away from the chair. “Just smile, silly!”

She complies unenthusiastically, letting herself be dragged around, and the four of them go sit down on the couch, with the twins sitting comfortably between her and Yang while Mrs. Darling takes out her scroll and points it at them. “Alright, ready now!”

They're both sitting there comfortably, together like many times before... like they've always been. The other two sitting now between them should feel strange, awkward and out of place, but they don't; they fit perfectly in the small gap, like pieces on a puzzle. And as Blake rests her hand on the boy's shoulder and her wife does the same with the girl while they pose for the picture, she realizes why it feels like that.

Because they belong there, and they probably always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, 65K+ words is pretty overkill for a prologue, but wow, WE DID IT! Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement, you've made this possible! ^^
> 
> I'm honestly thrilled simply by having reached this point, it means SO MUCH to me... But here we are, and this is just the beginning, the journey has just begun!
> 
> PS: in case you wanna see the full-sized image, here's the link https://www.deviantart.com/janphil/art/First-memento-838962305


	13. Interlude I

The shattered moon shines lavishly on the Vacuan sky, illuminating hundreds of miles of barren desert and turning them into a vast ocean of little diamonds gleaming in the night.

When the sun is at its highest, its radiance and excessive heat are already unbearable, but when it settles and the temperature drops, the cold becomes the deadliest predator of all. It forces most living creatures to hide underground or to seek shelter inside a cave, lest they want to suffer the painless death and be buried beneath the sand, leaving no trace of their existence. The land becomes dark, dangerous and hungry as the belly of a beast, the perfect environment to nurture the Grimm that once made this their dominion, but a death trap to any other creature.

And yet, Vacuans grew strong enough to subsist and persevere through these terrible conditions over the centuries. In the past, those who didn’t live in the capital city could only survive as part of a nomadic tribe, moving from one place to another in search of resources and as a way to not make themselves an easy prey for the Grimm. Nowadays, however, with the Grimm gone, some tribes have given up on their nomadic ways and embraced a sedentary lifestyle, becoming settlements and even small villages.

A permanent settlement gives its population the opportunity to explore a self-sustaining economy. Despite most of the kingdom being nothing but a wasteland, only fertile enough for cactuses and a few species of plants, people still found a way to survive. Those villages that have settled next to canyons and other rocky formations managed to develop underground crops, while others settled close to massive underground water reservoirs that were previously hoarded by Grimm and completely inaccessible. These villages open trade routes between them to share food and water, and even with the capital city itself, which allows them to earn enough money so they can afford some modern luxuries like electricity.

Vacuo is still years behind its fellow kingdoms, but life has become a lot easier for everyone.

And that’s exactly the reason why Jake hates it so much.

This kingdom suffered from growing complacent in the past, back when it was a bountiful oasis capable of providing for everyone. People didn’t struggle to survive, they didn’t become stronger because of it, and as a result the other kingdoms exploited the land. It wasn’t until they kicked out the invaders and reclaimed their now barren homeland that they really started to suffer the harsh conditions and toughen up, and they really did.

That’s the essence of Vacuo, the apothegm by which his ancestors lived by; strength through conflict.

“ _If you can survive here, then you are welcomed here_.”

Folks these days have truly forgotten what it means to be a Vacuan...

But Jake and his people have forgotten _nothing_.

His fierce gaze falls on the faint golden glow in the distance. There, over the dunes, a speck of light in the darkness like a candle drifting away in the middle of the ocean. The settlement is medium-sized, probably enough for a few dozen families, and sustains itself by working as a trade center for neighbouring villages, which guarantees a huge amount of resources to loot. But it also means it’s going to be well-defended; the wooden palisade surrounding the entire settlement is a testament to that, as it is the armed citizens standing guard by its doors and scouting the vicinity every few minutes with their flashlights.

He didn’t expect any less.

Thirteen shadows circle the settlement in an enclosing jaw formation with Jake as the center, moving slowly to not stir the sand beneath their feet and cause a dune movement that could give away their location. They stalk their target in a practiced, almost ritualistic motion born from decades of experience that makes them blend with their surroundings.

The sentinels at the entrance right in front of him are chatting amicably between them, sharing a waterskin that’s most likely filled with wine to help them cope with the cold and the long and tedious night. That’s just one of the gates, but there are still two more pointing to the south and west, so he stops in his tracks and doesn’t advance any further; the attack must be simultaneous, quick and precise.

He turns to the closest comrade at his right and starts clicking his tongue in a specific pattern, mimicking the social call of a desert gecko, a prolific species in this area. The man immediately catches on and repeats the sound, until the signal travels all the way to the right end of the formation. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the signal travels back to Jake. He then repeats the process but mimicking a bat’s chirp to the woman at his left, and just in the same way, the signal spreads throughout the whole chain and then returns to him.

Everyone’s ready and waiting for his command.

He takes a mouthful of the dry and cold desert air through the bandana covering his mouth, tightens his grip around his rifle’s handle, and then jumps down the dune. One by one, his comrades follow suit and descend the silken slopes, each of them drawing out guns and swords alike. They’re drawing near to the entrance like snakes when the first gunshot is heard.

His own.

The bullet meets its target directly in the shoulder, making the guard drop his weapon and fall to the ground with a shriek of pain. The other three react immediately, throwing the waterskin away and pointing their weapons everywhere, but then a second bullet from Jake’s companions catches one of them in the leg, and a third straight up takes another one down when it blasts directly through his neck. The last one standing watches in horror as his friends are felled before his eyes. He tries to snap back and arm himself, shouting in rage —a brave effort, he admits— but Jake is already on him, silencing the poor guy when the butt of his weapon clashes against his mouth, scattering his bloodied teeth all over the sand and sending him to sleep on the ground.

The silent night gets drowned in the sound of gunfire.

Jake has to assume that the rest of his people have successfully taken down the guards from the other two gates and proceeded with the plan; the whole raid depends on that premise.

He’s joined by four of his teammates soon after, their faces dimly illuminated by the flashlights on the ground but still well-hidden behind their scarves, bandanas and desert spectacles. None of them says anything, as they all know what they have to do. Wordlessly, the five of them haul the guns on their backs and draw their melee weapons, using them to dig into the wood and climb up the sixteen feet tall palisade. 

There are no screams of terror, to his surprise. Everytime they raid a village, as soon as they start shooting, people start screaming, but this one is strangely quiet...

Jake is the first one to reach the top and jump down to the other side, rolling at the end to not break his legs, since the whole settlement is sitting on solid rock. He stands up at lightning speed, cocking his rifle and aiming at every direction, looking for the villagers that usually come out of their homes with knives, shovels and hoes as improvised weapons, but primarily to the ones that actually have guns.

But there’s no one in sight… The streets are empty and silent, and the stone-built houses shut close with no light coming from inside. Even with all the gunfire, no one came out or even cared to turn on the lights?

In fact, there is absolutely _nothing_ in the streets, he notices. From a trading center like this, one would expect carts, barrels and all sorts of containers piled up at every corner, waiting to be unloaded for the next market day, but the streets are just… empty.

It makes no sense.

His comrades arrive at his side at that moment, shotguns and rifles at the ready just like him, but equally confused. “Where the hell is everyone?” one of them whispers, his young voice muffled behind his scarf.

“They must be inside,” another guesses, pointing with her weapon to the small rock buildings. “But this is weird, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Don’t get distracted, we’re wasting time,” Jake barks in a commanding voice, snapping everyone back to the task at hand. “Split up and pick a house, subdue the villagers and take all the money you can find. If they try to fight back, don’t be afraid to shoot them a new mouth.”

They silently nod their responses and do as he says, but they don’t even reach the first door before hell suddenly breaks loose. Gunfire again, at the other side of the settlement, followed by screams and shouts, frantic and desperate. And with them, a single word that makes Jake’s heart stop beating.

“Huntress!”

Their heads turn towards the source of the disturbance, just in time to see one of their comrades being plunged through the air like a pebble and right into a stone wall. The sound of his breaking bones makes all of them flinch before he motionlessly slides down to the ground, where he lays unmoving.

A second later all gunfire stops, along with the screams, and a lone figure emerges from the corner amidst the silence. A woman with long wavy hair the color of the desert, wearing green robes and bronze armor pieces, but it’s the golden spear in her hands which draws all of their eyes. She walks slowly towards them, calm but with sharp eyes, like a lion that’s just cornered a bunch of rabbits.

Now everything makes sense. The villagers didn’t stay indoors because they didn’t notice the commotion, they were _told_ to stay inside no matter what they heard. They were expecting them, and Jake and his group fell right into the trap.

He doesn’t hesitate even for a second before he shouts on top of his lungs, “Retreat!”

His four companions don’t hesitate either, and they all quickly turn on their heels and jump up the palisade they climbed but a minute ago; this is a battle they simply can’t win, and they know it. The woman’s face tenses ever so slightly without changing its expression. She kicks the ground a second later with enough force to raise a massive cloud of dust behind her, propelling her towards them like a rocket with the business end of her spear at the head.

…!

A flash of sparks lights up the small street, and a mighty metallic bang echoes throughout the night. The Huntress lands a few feet away —her heels scratching the ground to halt her momentum—, and her expression finally shifts to one of surprise; it’s evident she didn’t expect a random raider to be able to parry one of her blows.

Jake holds his ground, his loyal pickaxe tightly clasped on his right hand, as he lowers his center of gravity and prepares to face the woman. A quick peek behind him confirms that his comrades have managed to get out of the settlement thanks to his interference, at least the ones that were accompanying him —he can only assume that the rest have been either restrained or taken down—, and are probably on their way back to the camp. Now he can only hope he’ll make it out of here alive to join them...

“A bandit with Aura, huh? Haven’t seen one of those in a while,” the woman calmly comments once she gets over her initial shock, her stance far more relaxed than his.

That’s an easy guess, no person without Aura would be able to parry such an attack, it would be like expecting them to stop a truck with their bare hands. Truth be told, all of his muscles are already aching after that single exchange, but he does his best to try and hide it.

Having the woman so close, Jake can notice just how young she is, easily around the same age as the youngest raider in his group. She can’t be older than thirty, which would make her young enough to be his daughter… And still, her predatory eyes are fixed on him like those of a hawk staring at a mouse.

“Silent type?” she asks when he doesn’t respond, readying her stance once more with her spear pointing at him. “That’s fine with me.”

The next thing he knows, the woman has thrown herself at him again, and they lock in a frenetic flurry of blows. He successfully parries each one of her attacks with his pickaxe, but every time their weapons make contact, the force of her strikes sends shockwaves up his arms that stagger him and makes blocking the next one even harder. It’s incredible... Despite the fact that he towers over her, and that he probably weighs twice as much, he feels like a toddler arm wrestling with an adult. Aura really makes little difference in the face of superior training, and his is growing thinner and thinner with every passing second anyway.

He can’t beat her in normal combat, that’s clear. He needs to use his cunning to get out of this in one piece.

After he miraculously manages to deflect a killing thrust that would’ve surely pierced through the rest of his Aura and skewered him alive, Jake activates the hidden mechanism in his left sleeve, which makes the dagger he keeps concealed spring out. Gripping the handle as the blade comes out, he violently lunges at her eyes, where he knows a direct hit will at least stun her and give him some time to regain his breath. However, a sudden green glow appears at the edge of his vision, and before he even has the chance to process what’s happening, a raging gust of wind tears his feet from the ground and hurls him like a ragdoll across the street and into the wooden palisade; the brutal impact drives all the air out of his lungs and nearly makes his eyes pop out.

As he slumps to the ground with his Aura more than consumed and every inch of his body hurting like fucking hell, his bandana comes off and his grayish sea of dreadlocks fall over his eyes and shoulders, along with his perked up jackal ears. The metallic taste in his mouth tells him that he clenched his teeth so hard he made his gums bleed. He can still move, however, albeit hardly.

“That was a nice trick, I’ll give you that. But the game ends here, _Jake_ ,” the Huntress states nonchalantly while she twirls the spear in her hand around. The green gem embedded near the tip stops glowing, and the whirlwind howling around her recedes until nothing remains but a gentle breeze.

A Wind Dust crystal, of course…

“You were expecting us…” he merely states, spitting a mouthful of blood on the earth.

The woman scowls, her dark blue eyes looking down at him in disgust. “You thought you and your people could do as you please without Shade getting involved?”

She’s willing to talk, that’s good. That means he can stall for time as he tries to figure a way out.

“T-They really don’t care that much if they sent just one Huntress to help these people,” he mocks between coughs.

“I’m more than enough to take care of a bunch of worthless thieves,” she chuckles arrogantly, resting the shaft of her spear on her shoulder.

She’s alone, that’s even better. If he manages to escape there’s a lesser chance he’ll be caught if there’s no one to aid her. He’s well aware that most Huntsmen work in teams of four, even if that has become less of a rule as the Grimm gradually disappeared and the poor bastards had less and less work, but this one seems to be by herself for some reason. That being said, she’s right in her statement, as much as that pisses him off.

There’s still the question as to how Shade knew they were going to attack this precise settlement, but he has no time to ponder over that.

“And yet you let those guys out there like a bait,” he spits, glaring at the woman, “how honorable of you, _Huntress_.”

Her expression falters for a second, but it recovers just as quickly. “They all agreed to it if it meant catching you,” she returns the glare, taking one step forward, “and I’m not going to let their bravery go to waste.”

Time is running short...

He glances at his pickaxe, nearly ten feet away, and immediately gives up on the idea of trying to reach for it. He _could_ still draw his rifle and shoot at her, but even if he somehow managed to get a direct hit, her Aura would absorb the damage and she would impale him before he had the chance to pull the trigger a second time.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warns in a grimm tone, following his eyes to the weapon on the ground. Her voice clearly announces that there will be no mercy if he tries something funny. “Give up. You’ve lost, and you’re going to answer for all the harm you’ve done to the citizens of Vacuo.”

Like hell he is. He’d rather die than being turned over to Shade Academy to be sent to prison... but he doesn’t say it out loud. Even if he’s willing to die, it doesn’t mean he’s happy with the idea of challenging her. No, he hasn’t given up just yet. She is underestimating him simply because she’s a Huntress and he’s a wounded and unarmed bandit, and that’s something that’s going to cost her dearly.

His eyes wander to one of the houses next to them. 

Did she really tell the villagers to remain indoors or did she gather all of them somewhere safe? If he had to guess he’d go with the first choice, but there’s no way to know for sure. It’s a gamble, but there’s no other way out; if he has a chance to get away, this is his best bet.

The whole time they’ve been talking, Jake has slowly put his hand on his chest in a way that looks like he was pressing a wound, when in reality he was checking his last trump card, a little bump under his clothes...

Taking a huge breath, he slides a hand inside his vest and draws his last weapon. The Huntress catches on to his suspicious movement in a second and swipes her spear in a straight line in front of her, a movement that clearly aims to divorce his head from his shoulders permanently. But this little respite has given him enough energy to dodge the attack by dropping to the ground. The spear flashes right over him at lightning speed, cutting a few locks on its way but otherwise missing its target completely, and he wastes no time in pulling out the little pin of his hand grenade.

“Think fast, Huntress!” he shouts while tossing the explosive towards one of the windows of the house.

The woman’s eyes go wide in horror as the small device breaks through the window, and that’s when he realizes he guessed right.

It all happens in a second. She looks at him for an instant, but Jake is already on his feet and jumping towards his pickaxe, not waiting to see what choice she makes. In the end, she turns away from him while clenching her teeth and rips the whole front door of the house with a powerful windblast before hurrying inside, shouting at its inhabitants.

She may be able to save them... or not, he doesn’t really care. He climbs up the palisade, swallowing the searing pain all over his body, and jumps down to the comfortable sand outside the settlement.

The explosion goes off a few seconds later, lighting up the sky and raining down small pieces of debri in all directions, and this time the air gets filled with the screams of the terrified villagers and the smell of burnt wood, but he doesn't even register it. He keeps running into the deep desert, not looking back to the havoc he’s wreaked even once.

He’s made it out, he gets to live another day.

  


* * *

  


By the time Jake makes it back to the camp, the sounds of panic and terror have already faded into the distance.

The rocky formation that rises from the ground like a massive claw tearing the earth open serves as the perfect protection against sandstorms, as all the tents, containers and pack animals are guarded beneath its shadow. It’s one of the many locations they keep cycling through on their travels, and a personal favorite of Jake.

Too bad they won’t be seeing it again for a couple of years.

The whole place is shrouded in darkness, as they never use fire to light up their home like most settlements. Instead, they rely on Dust ores that glow naturally without producing an excessive amount of light, just enough for their human members to orientate around the place, but not enough to spot the camp in the middle of the night. It gives their home a rather eerie look, which he kind of enjoys.

Jake notices movement at the edge of the campsite as he limps his way to the closest tent, where nearly a dozen people are arguing under the light of a Dust-filled sack hanging from one of the poles. A few heads turn in his direction when he gets close enough; four of them are the same he took with him through the front gate.

“Chief, you made it!” a young man immediately rushes to his side, and the rest follow soon after, checking on him.

“What happened?!”

“Are you okay, chief?”

“How many have returned?” he asks in a demanding tone, ignoring their questions.

They look at each other and to the rest of the people around them in dead silence. 

“Just us…” a woman answers, eyes downcast.

...

Then it’s safe to assume that those who aren’t dead are in the Huntress’ custody as prisoners, and that’s another problem altogether. He trusts most of his people, but never to the point of trusting his life and the safety of the whole tribe to them. A vast majority of their members are lowlifes that simply tagged along because they had no other way to survive in this kingdom. And it takes a long time for those to develop some level of camaraderie, at least enough to not betray the rest to save their own skins.

If those guys are offered a good deal to lessen their sentences in exchange for the camp’s location, they’ll take it. There were some reliable men and women between those who didn’t make it back, but Jake can’t afford to take any chances.

“Break up camp and get ready, we’re leaving in two hours,” he says drily before shoving the others out of the way and going straight to his tent; he needs some time to cool off.

“L-Leave?! But chief, we don’t have enough food for the journey and—”

Jake glances at the man from the corner of the eye, his faunus eyes shining dangerously in the dark. He swears, if he has to assert his authority right now of all fucking times, he’s going to rip the bastard’s spine off his back and beat up his carcass with it.

The poor fellow suddenly doesn’t feel like arguing anymore, judging by sweat sliding down his temple. He claps his hands together and turns on his heels while shouting, “E-Everyone, start packing up everything!”

“Come on, get to work! Everything must be packed up and ready to move in two hours!” another one commands as people start springing to action.

“If you’re not ready you’ll be left behind!”

It’s not long before the previously peaceful camp starts to get bustling with people running around, packing their stuff and loading boxes with what little resources they have left; they’re low on reserves, he knows that well enough. Tonight’s raid was going to provide the money to resupply and get ready for the harsh journey across the desert to their next camping site. With what they have right now… it’ll be an exhausting trip.

But they’ll make it through. They always do.

He dodges a couple of boys carrying stacks of weapons —who purposely avoid his gaze— and goes into his tent, the biggest of the whole camp. As he steps inside, the scent of tobacco immediately fills his nostrils, not because there’s anyone smoking, but because he’s spent so much time doing it that the tent itself has gotten imbued with the smell. The once vibrant and colourful fabrics covering every inch of its walls are faded and yellowish, but that’s exactly how he likes them. They’re old, ragged and filthy —a shadow of what they once were— but, just like Jake himself, they’re still holding up.

After making the trip back home in such a terrible state, the weapons on him feel like they weigh a ton, so he loosens the strap of the rifle and lets it fall on the floor along with several ammunition cartridges. At the same time, he grabs his pickaxe and swings it at one of the thick wooden poles that’s keeping the tent up; the weapon lodges itself in the wood and remains there, perfectly attached.

“What a shitty night,” he sighs tiredly, dropping on the sea of pillows and grabbing a bottle of wine from under the small table at his side. He should start packing things up too, but he can spare a few minutes to take a break.

However, the moment the drink enters his mouth he feels a burning pain that makes him cough and spill half of it. He totally forgot about the wounds in his mouth, but it seems his Aura hasn’t regenerated yet, so they’re still open.

“Fuck!” he exclaims, trying to wipe the stains from his clothes, but gives up halfway through and ends up throwing the bottle in an angry fit against one of his cabinets, where it shatters in pieces and spreads what little liquid it had left over the furniture. Jake groans loudly while massaging his head with both hands, his ears falling flat against his dreadlocks, cursing his luck.

A failed raid, eight bandits lost, and getting his ass handed to him by a Huntress. What a shitty night indeed...

“Someone’s in a bad mood.”

The voice is low, silky... and amused.

Jake’s eyes open wide and his ears shoot up in alarm. He gets on his feet and glances around the tent like a hound searching for attackers —his mind still in combat mode—, but there’s absolutely no one there, only the night breeze slipping through the crevices of his tent as a soft whisper.

He recognizes the voice though...

“You know,” Jake starts, eyes darting around and closing his hand around the handle of his pickaxe, still embedded into the pole, “I’d appreciate it if you showed yourself the moment I enter, instead of staying silent and watching like a damn weirdo.”

The voice chuckles mischievously. “I can’t help it, you have _such_ an imposing figure… It’s intimidating!”

If there’s one thing Jake hates above everything is being made a fool of, especially by coward skulking rats like this guy. Very few men have dared talk to him in that tone and got away with all of their limbs still attached, so knowing that the man behind this voice is out of his reach drives him absolutely insane. The only thing he can do in this case is breathe deeply and try to calm down, so at the very least he doesn’t give the guy the satisfaction of seeing him riled up.

His scowl and silence must convey how tired he is of the game, because the voice sighs. “You’re no fun.”

It starts as a small puff of smoke in the air, with colors floating around in a chaotic swirl with no definite shape, yet little by little the image begins to take form. A black cloak with no feet... long purple hair... and a mask. An intricate silver and golden mask the shape of a cat’s face with an unnatural and disturbing smile that stretches from ear to ear. Jake’s immediate reaction upon seeing it is to tear it apart with his pickaxe, and if he didn’t know the weapon would just go through him like a ghost, he’d probably give in to that wish.

The shadow, illusion, whatever this guy’s Semblance does, remains in the air, floating lazily around him like a trail of incense. Jake eyes him for a moment with a disgusted expression, then releases the grip on his weapon and goes around him to sit down on the pillows once more. “What do you want?” he exhales tiredly.

“Oh, you know, just checking to see if you’re having second thoughts or anything,” the masked ghost explains in a merry tone, his head casually making a 180 degree turn to look at him once more. “I’ve heard that today’s outing didn’t go all that well.”

“And how the hell do you know that? It was just an hour ago,” he asks, squinting his eyes threateningly.

“I’m _always_ watching you, Jake,” the phantom declares grimmly through that creepy smile. “The rest of the tribes are keeping up with the schedule with no problem, but I’m afraid your people keep lagging behind. I wouldn’t want to tell my boss that there’s a weak link in the chain...”

The jackal faunus frowns, his nails digging up on the wooden table. “Tell your boss he can hang himself with that chain for all I care. He lost the authority to boss me or my tribe around like those dogs when we refused to take his filthy Atlesian money,” he makes a stop when the shrouded man raises his hands in front of the mask’s mouth in faked shock, mimicking a child who’s just heard an adult swearing. “He should be glad we’re going along with his plan at all.”

“And _that_ , my dear, is exactly why you’re my favourite,” the ghost giggles demurely as he floats towards him, that abhorrent golden grin merely inches away from his face. “As soon as my boss turns off the money tap, all of those greedy fools will die in the new Vacuo like piglets in a den full of starving wolves. But _you_ , who knows? Maybe you’ll end up being strong enough to _be_ the wolves…”

That’s the only thing that keeps Jake moving forward. He doesn’t care about petty rivalries between companies, Dust emporiums and whatever they plan to get out of this, although kicking the SDC out of the kingdom certainly comes as a nice bonus. But it’s not easy. Raiding settlements as frequently as they do right now takes a big toll out of the tribe. But if they endure, if they manage to survive for a few more weeks… then when the kingdom finally descends into chaos, his people will be the last ones standing and the best prepared to rise from its ashes. They’ll be back to the old ways, and those who remain amidst the wreckage will be the _true_ children of Vacuo.

 _Strength through conflict_ …

“Anyway, tell me what happened,” the cat-face then moves away, floating around the tent with his arms behind his head in a lying position.

Jake sighs while leaning back on the pillows, now slightly more relaxed. “There was a Huntress with them.”

“A Huntress...” the ghost repeats, tasting the word. “That’s good, it means the Academy is finally reacting to the sudden peak in bandit raids,” he then chuckles, twirling around like a spinning top. “The Headmistress must be pulling her hair out with all the people’s protests!”

“That may be funny for you, but it makes things harder for us. My people are tough, but we’re hardly a match for a trained Huntsman,” he rebukes, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently.

The masked man suddenly fades away, and then immediately reappears on top of Jake, completely upside down with his hands behind his back, startling him. He already voiced his displeasure with the man’s… unrestrained freedom of movement during their first conversations, but he has given up entirely on his attempts by now; it’s not like he can actually force the guy to stay put in one place, sadly.

“That's just a momentary obstacle. The fact that there was only one Huntress is already a great sign,” he assures him, raising —or dropping?— a finger.

Jake moves slightly to the side, uncomfortable with the man’s proximity. “How so? It’s a sign that they don’t need more than one to take care of us.”

“What would you do if you thought your family’s safety was at stake? Hire an entire team or just one Huntsman?”

“An entire team, obviously.”

The man shrugs, although the upside down gesture doesn’t convey the same feeling. “And if you couldn’t afford it?”

...

The money… Of course.

Since all bandit tribes are part of this scheme, there are more than a dozen armed groups constantly raiding all of Vacuo’s settlements every week. If they’re low on resources, they won’t be able to hire proper protection, and if they can’t hire protection they’ll be easier targets for more raids; it’s like a train going downhill with no brakes, and the total collapse of the kingdom at the bottom.

“If I had to guess, I’d say a couple of settlements put together money to hire the entire team, and then they split them up between each, so no matter which one you picked you'd still fall in the trap,” the ghost reasons, touching a finger to the mask’s teeth, where his chin probably is. “It may be tough for now, but you just need to press on. As long as the villagers don’t keep the money for themselves, it works the same for us.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to provide food for more than a hundred people,” Jake barks, standing up and pacing around the tent with his arms crossed in frustration.

The chuckle that comes out of the masked man is as cold and cruel as it is entertained. “You _could_ still accept our generous patronage, you know? There’s more than enough space in my boss’ lap for a new doggy.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jake hisses, glaring at him from the corner of the eye.

“Ah, so feisty…” the ghost mutters under his breath before vanishing into thin air once more, only to appear right behind Jake, invading his personal space again. The jackal faunus holds his ground this time without flinching, staring intently into the two empty black holes on the mask that seem to be boring into his very soul. “Well then, I guess we’ll see how fit to be the wolves your people _really_ are…” as he speaks, his form begins to dilute in the same way that it materialized, like the colors and lines were being unsewn from his body, until nothing remains but a floating gastly mask. “One thing’s for sure... we're gonna have _a lot_ of fun finding out.”

Its unnerving golden grin and his sarcastic giggles are the last thing to fade away, leaving Jake alone with his pent up anger once more. He’s not going to let his taunts get the best of him, he has to focus, he has to be strong… for his tribe and for their future.

They will endure.

No matter what happens, they will endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I didn't upload another story by mistake, this was on purpose ^^U
> 
> I know you must be confused as to the weird turn this has taken, going from wholesomeness to violence in the span of just one chapter. I'm aware of the rating I chose for my story, so don't worry, you're not going to see anything excessively gruesome. The violence and action scenes (as scarce as they're going to be) will go along the lines of what you've just read.
> 
> Now, the twins are about to start their new lives, but the world is gonna keep on turning. Important things are gonna be happening in the background that may seem unrelated to the main story... for now. That's one of the reasons why I decided to retitle the chapters. The twelve previous chapters are now labeled as part of Episode I, and the next one will be the start of Episode II, while these weird interlude chapters (without the kids header, for better visual representation) will show us this stuff that's going on behind the curtains.
> 
> So yeah, aside from all the fluff and cuteness, there's an actual plot here, hope you don't mind! XD


	14. Ep II: Chapter 1

It’s pretty early in the morning. Not enough for the sun to still be peeking behind the horizon, but neither too late for it to be so high that its heat becomes bothering. It’s at that perfect moment, Damon thinks, right after it has fully risen, when its warmth is like a gentle embrace mixed with the cool morning breeze. He doesn’t know if it makes him weird for relishing so much something as trivial as the feeling of a simple spring morning, but he does anyway.

Around this hour, he and his sister were usually setting up their worn-out cardboard in one of their many spots around Mistral’s lower districts and getting ready for a new sunrise, bellies rumbling and eyelids heavy from tiredness. The day ahead of them would be tiresome: sitting for hours, watching people come and go, being on the lookout in case the police show up and they have to kick the dust, and coping with hunger and boredom.

In another life, today may have been no different. They could still be trapped in that futureless routine, waiting for their luck to run out and be either caught and returned to the orphanage, or something much, much worse...

But not in this one.

In this one —and for that he’ll be eternally grateful—, it _is_ different.

Because in this one, they’ve been blessed with two awesome angels that took them out of the cold streets and gave them a home.

“Leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk to you liars,” Aster pouts, gripping the straps of her school bag and glancing away from them.

“Are you still angry? Come on, we apologized,” Phoebe sighs at her side, between him and the brunette, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

Damon, for his part, just can’t stop smiling at the sight of his sister, or to be more precise, of her new looks. It’s been a few days since Blake and Yang officially adopted them, and the first thing the couple did was taking them on a shopping spree across Mistral; after wearing the same clothes for nearly six months —to the point where they could disintegrate if you looked at them the wrong way—, a wardrobe change was very much in order, according to Blake.

His sister now wears a short little dress —no more baggy and wrinkled clothes for them, at last!—, sport leggings and cool new sneakers, but the part Damon likes the most is the black ribbon currently holding her hair in a low ponytail. In the past, when they were little, she usually wore pigtails, but this feels less childish, much more in sync with the current Phoebe —in his opinion—. And although he doesn’t clean up as nice as her, he likes to think he’s rocking his new boots and overalls too!

“Real Huntsmen are honest and never lie to each other,” the shepherd firmly states, still not looking at either of them, but then her voice takes a slightly hurt tone. “I’m not so mean as to think less of you just because you’re orphans...”

He doesn’t blame Blake for coming up with the ‘cousins’ idea out of the blue, since she hadn’t made up her mind about the twins at the time and it seemed like the best choice to get the old lady out of their backs. But now that everything has settled… it’s gonna come back to bite them in the butt.

Damon walks up to the girl’s side, so she’s now between them, and puts his hands together in apology. “I’m sorry... We made up that story so we wouldn’t get in trouble with Mrs. Mell—”

“Shush!” Phoebe quickly silences him, and the three of them warily glance at the other side of the town square, to the old woman’s house, as if expecting her to appear like a demon after her name has been summoned. She does not, obviously, but they still exhale a breath of relief.

“She’ll figure it out sooner or later, sis,” Damon says with a grimace, shrugging.

“Probably...” Aster agrees, woefully.

“Then the later, the better!” Phoebe exclaims.

“No, I’ll have to tell her the next time I see her…”

The kids turn around to the other three waiting by the edge of the town square with them. Yang’s car is parked at one side of the road, where it doesn’t get in the way of other vehicles, with her and Blake —who’s making a complicated face— leaning casually against it. The third woman in the group has long silken dark hair, gentle features and wears a Mistralian kimono that has seen its fair share of use, but coming from a farmer it seems only reasonable.

“If she was hostile before, then after this I’ll be lucky if she even returns the greetings,” Blake continues with downcast eyes, massaging her temple.

Yang slides an arm over her wife’s shoulders, eyeing the old woman’s house with contempt. “I say good riddance. She was the one who made that awful comment about you and the kids, it’s not like she deserves an explanation or anything.”

“It’s just like her to be so rude,” Lily —Aster’s mom— adds with a shake of the head and a sigh. “I agree with Yang, even if you tell her it probably won’t change a thing, dear.”

“But I’m afraid she’ll lash out at them or something...” she rebukes, giving the twins a worried look. “I’d rather she vent her frustrations on me if it comes to that.”

Although it is a delicate matter, Damon can’t help but feel all tingly and warm inside knowing Blake is willing to take on the old lady’s temper on their behalf, despite her obvious reluctance at dealing with her. It’s a really nice feeling, knowing someone cares about you enough to go to such lengths… to face something they’d rather wouldn’t in normal circumstances.

And judging by the tiny smile tugging at his sister's lips, she feels exactly the same.

“Don’t worry Blake, we’ve met tons of jerks like her in the suburbs,” Phoebe announces proudly, shoving a thumb at her chest, “I know how to deal with them, right Damon?”

After everything they’ve gone through, that would be an understatement...

“No one snaps at strangers like you, sis,” he agrees, rolling his eyes.

“I can attest to that!” Yang chuckles, leaning in to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Just don’t go around picking fights, you hear?”

Phoebe shakes her head dismissively, slapping the metallic hand away with a pout. “I don’t go looking for trouble, but if trouble finds us, I’m ready for it!”

“That doesn’t reassure me…” Blake sighs, turning to the brunette girl with a serious look. “Aster, I trust you to take care of them and make sure they don’t get into trouble, okay?”

The shepherd softens a little bit, if only because it’s one of her literal idols asking her a favor, but she still glares at the twins while pursing her lips. “I don’t know, they insulted my honor… I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with them anymore.”

“That’s not what you were saying yesterday, Miss ‘I can't stop babbling about my new friends and how happy I am that they’re staying’,” Lily comments off-handedly with a knowing smirk.

“Mom!” Aster yells, stomping her feet on the ground with cheeks burning red.

“It’s okay, _muffin_! We’re not going anywhere!” Phoebe declares teasingly, stepping close to the girl and hugging one of her arms.

“H-Hey!”

Damon giggles and goes to take the other arm, cutting off her only escape route. “Awwww, we’re happy to be your friends too, _muffin_!”

It’s meant as a joke to tease her, but Damon is honestly excited to have a new friend. She’s the first friend they’ve had in a long time, and the only neighbour of their age in the entire village; it’s like the perfect recipe for brand new BFFs!

“G-Guuuuh! Stop making fun of me, you scoundrels!” she complains, thrashing about in a —Damon notices— not very enthusiastic effort to break free, and sporting a massive blush on her face.

The three grown-ups chuckle at the girl’s embarrassment, but their moment of merriment is interrupted by the sound of an airship’s engine rumbling in the distance. A huge ornithopter the size of a truck then appears over the horizon, flapping its vast metallic wings like a real bird, and making Aster perk up and break free from their hold as it nears the village.

“By the way, how come you two get to skip school?” the girl asks with a frown, gripping the straps of her bag once more and walking in front of the group.

Before they have a chance to reply —although Damon is not really sure what to respond—, Yang takes a step forward and puts a hand on both of their shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. “Oh, they’ll be joining you soon enough, _trust me_ …” she announces with a devilish sneer that gives both of them goosebumps.

“C-Can’t we, like, stay home and bake cookies with you?” Damon offers, trying to play innocent.

His twin nods vigorously. “Y-Yeah! We can even help clean up the house and all that!”

“Absolutely not,” Blake interferes, looking down at them with sharp golden eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “The only reason you’re not starting right away is because spring break starts next week and we still have some paperwork to take care of. But as soon as the classes resume, you’re _both_ going to school. You’re not going to catch up with six months worth of lessons lazing around all day.”

Everyone else, except for Yang (who’s grinning from ear to ear), are left speechless and wide-eyed.

“What?” the faunus asks, looking at each of them.

“Are you sure you’re new to this whole parenting thing?” Lily wonders out loud, putting up an amused smile. “You could teach Basil a thing or two.”

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Blake rebukes, arching a brow. “I mean, everyone needs an education.”

“Of course, but it’s… How do I put it?”

“It’s the attitude,” Yang says, nodding proudly from behind the twins.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Blake seems a little taken aback —and slightly flustered— by their remark, but she quickly clears her throat and collects herself, regarding the twins once more. “W-Well, anyway… Once the holidays are over, we’ll go to the city and get everything you need for school, understood?”

“Okay…” both mumble at the same time.

“It won’t be that bad, you’ll see,” Yang says with a smile, patting them reassuringly on the back.

Damon didn’t really expect to just ditch school forever, but it’s been _so_ long since their last time attending class… Education has been so unimportant, so irrelevant in their lives for the past few months, that it feels surreal to be able to consider it once more like any other kid. And he’s honestly a bit scared; meeting an entire new classroom with new kids and teachers sounds so frightening...

But he knows that as long as he and his sister are together, they’ll be able to get through anything.

At that moment, the ornithopter reaches the town square and descends gently on the ground thanks to its Dust engines, folding its wings like a bat. He’d seen only a few of them from afar, so the thought of riding on it on a daily basis already makes going to school a far more enjoyable prospect. Getting to fly over the city, _fly over the city_ , every single morning? That’s just crazy!

When the passenger door opens and a mechanical staircase unfolds to the ground, Aster skips to her mother’s side and the woman bends down to give her a little peck on the forehead.

“Have a nice day, sugar.”

“You too, mom,” the brunette says with a smile, waving her goodbyes to Blake and Yang before turning to the twins with knitted brows. “So, I’m still mad and all that! But, uh… wanna hang out and play this afternoon?”

“Of course!” Damon exclaims eagerly.

“We’ll even let you be the team leader,” Phoebe offers with a smirk.

The shepherd’s rouge eyes light up, and she points a finger at them. “That’s a promise, you can’t take it back!”

“Aster...” her mother says in a reprimanding tone, eyeing the airship.

“A-Ah, yeah, well, see ya later!” she yells before darting off and boarding the ornithopter, where an uniformed man greets her before the doors close and the airship takes off.

As it flies into the distance and disappears behind the clouds —off to pick up more kids from other villages, he supposes—, Lily turns to the other two women and gets ready to leave as well. “Well then, see you tomorrow. At around eight, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Blake quickly says before the woman takes another step away, fidgeting awkwardly. “Say Lily… Would you and Bas mind if my parents joined in?”

“Your parents?” the woman repeats, puzzled.

“In our house, I mean. I know we agreed to have dinner in yours this time, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” the faunus explains, shrugging defeatedly. “When I told them about the adoption they _insisted_ on paying us a visit tomorrow and, well... they just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I see... That’s understandable.”

“And be thankful we’re visiting my hometown next week, or my dad would swim naked across the sea just to be here as well,” Yang adds with a grimace.

Blake’s parents and Yang’s dad. That would technically make them their grandparents, which is… a really tough pill to swallow. Just four days ago they were alone in the world, besides having one another, but now they have an entire family tree to explore. And to be honest, the prospect of meeting these people that —for all intents and purposes— are going to be a part of their lives _forever_ , is far more nerve-wracking than attending a new school.

He can only hope they’re as nice as Yang and Blake...

“Sounds like an interesting family,” Phoebe chuckles nervously.

“Glad you think so, ‘cause you’re gonna spend the holidays meeting _all of them_!” Yang gushes, patting them on the back.

“H-How many are ‘all’ of them?” Damon wonders, slightly concerned.

Blake smiles sympathetically while turning to look at them with a shrug of the shoulders. “Let’s just say you have a bunch of aunts and uncles…”

“U-Ugh…”

“It’s not too late to go back to the cardboards, Damon!” Phoebe tugs at his overalls with a terrified expression.

“Think about the good stuff! A huge family makes for some crazy birthday parties, so there’s that,” Yang declares with a toothy grin.

That… does sound very nice. Back at the orphanage they couldn’t really go all out with the parties, since there were so many kids that there was basically a birthday every week. At best, the kitchen staff would prepare a cake to share between everyone which, when it comes down to rations, doesn’t really amount to a lot.

“So, anyway,” Blake resumes, turning back to Lily, “what do you think? We can dine with you on Sunday if this is a bit too sudden…”

Aster’s mom waves her hands dismissively in front of her. “Oh no, by all means! We only got to meet them that one time after you moved in, it’ll be nice to see them again. I’m sure Basil will think the same.”

“Thanks, Lily, and sorry for the inconvenience,” Blake mutters with a respectful bow.

“None at all,” she snickers. “Same hour?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect, then see you tomorrow, family.”

“See you, Lily,” Yang salutes.

“Bye, Mrs. Talanta,” Phoebe bows in the same way as Blake, and Damon imitates her shortly after. The woman waves at them with a gentle smile and turns around, leaving the four alone at the edge of the town square.

“Welp, that’s one less thing to do,” the blonde sighs, dusting her hands before turning to her wife. “Want us to drop you at home before we leave, hon?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to the grocery store first,” she answers, shaking her head.

The boy moves next to her and tugs at her shirt. “You’re not coming?”

“I’m sorry... But I need to take care of the thing I promised Mrs. Darling, remember? We can’t leave your friends there hanging,” she laments, bending down a little to look him in the eye. “I’ll be waiting home when you come back, okay?”

“Okay…” he smiles dejectedly.

He watches Blake shift her arms awkwardly, as if she couldn’t make up her mind about going for a hug or not, and finds it incredibly endearing; she’s just like Phoebe in that regard, it seems. A few days ago she’d gone all out without hesitation, but her emotions were raw at that moment, just like his. But now —after everything has settled— it’s like she doesn’t know how to act around them anymore, like she doesn’t know what level of affection would be ‘appropriate’. Luckily for her, he does.

Looking back at his twin, he beckons her to come closer and she instantly blushes, knowing full well what he plans to do. She complies, however, and the two of them hug the woman’s waist, making her freeze up before she slowly hugs them back, patting their backs.

“So, I find and bring the kids home, and the kitty is the one to get _all_ the love?” Yang asks in an exaggerated manner, pouting and glancing away. “Talk about fair...”

Phoebe breaks the hug and turns to the blonde, giggling into her hand. “Aww, are you jealous?”

“Don’t worry, Damon Xiao Long has a hug for everyone!” he exclaims joyfully, running into her and embracing her as well.

“That’s better!” Yang laughs and ruffles his hair, amused. “Now we gotta be on the move, okay? I can’t be late.”

“Do you have your license?” Blake asks.

“Yup,” the blonde nods while tapping her chest, before closing in to steal a kiss from the faunus. “We’ll be back in a jiff.”

“Don’t let them wander off, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I am an expert at dealing with excitable little kids, and these rascals got nothing on Ruby,” she winks playfully, then turns her attention to them. “Alright, let’s go.”

“I call shotgun!” Phoebe yells with a big smirk on her face, rushing to the car before he has a chance to react.

Damon groans, stomping his foot and chasing after her. “Again?! Oh, come on!”

  


* * *

  


The upper districts of Mistral look like an entire different world compared to the suburbs. Phoebe had seen them on TV and magazines quite a few times, but gawking at it with her own two eyes is a completely different experience. The fancy buildings, colourful designs and flawless roads surrounded by perfectly maintained nature are a sight to behold, which of course means that she and her twin have their faces plastered all over the windows, their curious eyes darting in all directions.

She knows this is just a pretty mask hiding Mistral’s horrible true face, and that most people up here don’t know —or don’t care— about how tough life is living in the lower districts. But even so, she can’t help but admire the majestic scenery before her.

As they traverse through the beautiful city, the proof that they're reaching their destination appears over the horizon. The top of the twin CCT towers, the structures that connect the city —and almost the entire kingdom— through a massive network that allows the use of scrolls, while also making it possible to interact with the other three kingdoms. Hey, Phoebe may not like school, but she’s not a bad student by any means!

The grandiose and dignified building between the towers can’t be any other than Haven Academy, the place where Yang has an important meeting to attend to. She parks her car right outside the campus, since the whole area seems to be a pedestrian-only space, turns off the engine and looks at them with stern lilac eyes. “Remember your promise, kids. You’re part of our secret now, which means you can’t talk about it with _anyone_ else unless I say so, understood?”

Phoebe shares a serious look with her twin and they both ‘zip’ their mouths at the same time.

“Our lips are sealed,” she says, full of resolve.

“Yeah, you can count on us,” Damon nods repeatedly.

Yang holds their gazes for a moment, as if evaluating their honesty, and finally smiles, satisfied. “Good, then let’s go.”

They make their way together through the campus entrance to the main building, passing right under the CCT towers. She has no idea how tall they are, but this is the first time she’s seen them up close, and they’re far more humongous than anything she’s seen before; it’s kind of intimidating, to be honest. But Phoebe is distracted from her amazement when she glances around and sees no students wandering around, only a few people too old to be still attending (either that or they should really consider dropping out at this point).

“Isn’t this a Huntsmen Academy? Where’s everyone?” she asks Yang, eyeing their surroundings with curiosity.

“They must be in class, right?” Damon reasons.

“All of them? At the same time?” she retorts with a deadpan.

“Even if they’re not, we probably won’t run into them. Nowadays this place can hardly be called an Academy, to be honest. There must be less than a dozen students overall...” Yang explains with a tired sigh, peeking at them from the corner of her eye. “But not just here, all Huntsmen Academies are the same.”

“Is it that bad? I know there are a lot less Grimm now than before the war, but I had no idea the academies would be this empty…” she admits, slightly disappointed.

Going by what their teacher taught them, people aspiring to become Huntsmen would start studying in their early teens in Combat Schools, then after that they could join one of the four major academies… if they showed promise. But even those few considered ‘above average’ were numbered by the hundreds…

But this seems like a mere shadow of what their teacher told them.

“Experts say that the four kingdoms are, like, 99% cleansed of Grimm as of right now. The only place on Remnant that still needs Huntsmen intervention are the Grimmlands themselves,” the blonde shrugs. “So yeah, not many reasons to try and keep the job alive.”

“That’s… kinda sad,” the boy frowns.

“Not really, think about it this way: the less Huntsmen are needed, then the better place to live the world is becoming, see?” she says, turning to look at them with a sunny smile.

“Huh, good point.”

“Then… Why keep this whole place running at all?” Phoebe voices the obvious question as they reach the academy’s front door.

“Because it’s not just an academy. It also serves as a guild house, a meeting place for Huntsmen,” Yang explains as she pushes the door open, but she freezes a second later, her voice lowering to a whisper, “looking for work…”

Confused by the sudden shift in her tone, Phoebe and Damon take a peek from behind her, and they both gasp in shock. Not because the building is as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside, with its amazing woodwork perfectly cut and polished, or the astoundingly beautiful statue of a goddess-like figure governing the entire hall from the very center. No, it’s because of the hundred or so people currently spread across the massive room, accessing terminals and looking at screens in small groups.

“Oh no, it’s one of _those_ days…” Yang mutters under her breath, biting her lips.

Damon takes a small step around her, glancing around. “What’s happening? Are all these people—”

“Stick close to me,” she interrupts, taking their hands in hers and walking towards the center of the room.

“Woah!”

“A-Ah, wait,” Phoebe calls, being pulled around along with her brother.

They follow the blonde deep into the ocean of people, trying their best to keep her pace; Phoebe has no idea what’s wrong with her, but this crowd seems to be making her nervous for some reason. They’re all Huntsmen and Huntresses, judging by their outfits and combat gear, but there’s something weird, a strange feeling floating around the hall... People keep pacing around, tapping their feet, faces tense and frowning, and the deeper they go into the crowd, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes.

On the way, Phoebe manages to catch snippets of conversation here and there.

“ _... nothing._ ”

“ _I can’t... year since… last job._ ”

“ _Vale… worse._ ”

“ _... and we… pay rent…_ ”

But more important than that, she notices that a lot of them keep glancing in their direction, with some straight up _glaring_ at them. If they were still wearing their ragged clothes she could understand how that could draw attention here in the upper districts, but their current outfits are nice, so why are these people piercing them with their gaze? Unless, of course... they’re not glaring at them, but at Yang.

She glances at the woman’s face and sees her adamant expression, eyes focused ahead and ignoring the dirty looks, and wonders what in the world could people have against such a nice person to look at her that way...

Passing the statue and going up the stairs, they soon reach a big counter with Huntsmen flocking around in rows and three stressed-looking clerks trying to deal with them one by one; if Yang has to stand in line, she can tell that it’s going to take forever... But to her surprise and mild embarrassment, the blonde skips the line completely and goes straight to one of the clerks.

“Excuse me, it’s just a question,” she says, tapping the woman that’s first in line and receiving another dirty look as a response, but she ignores it and regards the clerk with steely eyes. “Is the Headmaster here? I had a meeting with him at ten.”

The bespectacled man behind the counter frowns nervously, looking between her and the irritable-looking lady she just pushed aside, and checks his terminal for a moment. “O-Okay, let’s see, um… Here it is. Yang Xia—”

“Yes, is he here?” she cuts him off.

Phoebe notices a sudden change in the group around them as soon as the man pronounces her name. A few more eyes turn in their direction, and whispers start spreading around as if Yang and the twins were the source of some juicy gossip material.

“ _Did he say Yang?_ ”

“ _From team YNJRR?_ ”

“ _Yeah look, that’s the golden arm alright…_ ”

“Well, uh... he said he had to leave for a moment, but he should be back very soon,” he responds, still eyeing the impatient Huntress next to her.

Yang clicks her tongue. “Do you mind if we wait for him in his office?”

The clerk’s eyes widen. “W-What? I’m sorry, b-but I’m afraid I can’t allow that, ma’am.”

“Hell, you think you own this whole place or something?” the irritable lady spits with a scowl, crossing her arms. Phoebe frowns and glares daggers at her, but she goes unnoticed.

“He knows me, he won’t mind,” Yang assures the man, completely ignoring the woman’s comment.

“I’m not sure if that would be appro—”

“Hey, I’m talking to you, _Miss Big Shot_ ,” the woman snaps, pushing the blonde away from the counter. Damon lets out a distressed whimper, and Phoebe doesn’t waste a second in taking his hand and pulling him away so they stay behind Yang. “What the fuck are you doing here? Don’t have enough with the bigger jobs so you come here and take the scraps for yourself too?”

Yang’s face tenses up and her hands ball into fists for a second, but she takes a quick glance at the twins from the corner of her eye, notices their worried expressions, and collects herself. Taking a deep breath, she stands in front of them and regards the Huntress with calm eyes.

“I’m not looking for trouble, I’m just here to talk with the Headmaster,” she says, voice low and conciliatory.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” the woman sneers, making a disgusted expression. “With how successful and busy your team is compared to us rats, I bet you must be having a lot of _talks_ under the table.”

“What did you—?!” Yang suddenly lashes out, but stops mid-sentence when Damon latches on to her good hand, tears swelling up in his frightened eyes. Looking down at him, the blonde sighs and calms down once more, cupping and caressing the boy’s cheek before mouthing a small, “It’s okay”.

Phoebe isn’t so easily pacified, however. She doesn’t know what this woman’s problem is, or what tables have to do with anything, but she’s not about to let some punk mess with _her_ family, much less make _her_ brother cry. She takes a step forward, walking in front of Yang and her twin, and looks up to the rude Huntress.

“What’s your problem?! Yang hasn’t done anything to you!” she yells, baring her fangs.

“Phoebe,” Yang mutters.

“No! She has no right to talk to you like that!” the girl insists, glaring at the woman. “What kind of Huntress are you?! Just leave us alone, you jerk!”

The Huntress glowers back at her. “Excuse me?! Listen here, you little sh—!”

She is interrupted by a loud blow echoing through the hall that makes all the whispers go silent all of the sudden. Phoebe —and almost everyone else— looks towards the source of the noise at the top of the stairs, right from where they came. A freckled brown-haired man in a fancy green coat and holding a silver cane stands there amidst the Huntsmen, staring back at them with sharp severe eyes. 

“Enough!” he commands, walking up to them with his cane and piercing the troublesome lady with his gaze, even though she’s clearly much older than him. “I will not allow Huntsmen to behave in such an uncivilized manner within this institution. This little girl is right,” he says, gesturing to Phoebe, “we’re supposed to be defenders of peace, not vulgar bullies.”

“But—” the woman starts, but is immediately silenced by the brown haired man.

“I’ll leave it as a warning this time. But I hope you remember that, according to the academy rules, any kind of altercation outside the arena grounds by professional Huntsmen will result in a full year license suspension for all parts involved,” he declares grimly, raising his voice and looking at all the people surrounding them before once more setting his eyes on the rude lady. “Have I made myself clear?”

The Huntress glances around her, as if she was searching for support among her peers, but everyone remains silent and crestfallen like scolded children; a stark contrast, considering they’re all older than the freckled man.

“Yes, Headmaster…” she finally relents, eyes downcast and biting her lip.

In a matter of seconds, the low rumbling of the crowd resumes and the tense atmosphere vanishes as if it was never there. It’s kind of impressive how someone so young can command such respect and authority, but she guesses that if he became Headmaster in the first place, he must be strong enough to live up to the position.

“Miss Xiao Long, if you would,” he says to Yang, barely looking her in the eyes and going through the big door behind the counter.

“Yeah, come on kids,” still holding Damon’s hand, she takes Phoebe’s once more and the three of them go after him, not before the girl takes one last glance at the rude lady and sticks her tongue out to her, delighting in her outraged expression.

They follow the Headmaster through the academy in complete silence, the man walking seven feet ahead of them and not looking back at them even once. True to Yang’s word, as soon as they get away from the hall, Haven becomes almost a ghost house, without even the slightest sound of students or teachers coming out of the classrooms; the only other faces they meet on the corridors along the way are those of the paintings hanging from the walls.

After a few minutes of wandering across identical hallways that could be at home in a maze, they reach a door bigger than the rest. The man opens it for them, and as soon as they enter, he shuts it close behind them.

“Good grief… These people are gonna drive me insane,” he suddenly slumps against the doorframe, giving the blonde an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Yang. Early this morning we received at least a dozen new assignments from the Colonies and, well…”

“Everyone’s calling dibs, I get it,” she sighs, massaging her temple. Phoebe and Damon remain by her side, not wanting to be rude by scampering around and glancing at the Headmaster’s office. “But heck, Oscar, you could’ve given me a call or something, one more minute and they may have jumped at my throat.”

The man’s face falls in regret, moving away from the door and walking up to his desk. “I know, but I was so busy handling all the paperwork… I couldn’t find the moment,” he explains, sheepishly meeting her eyes. “I actually tried to meet you at the entrance, but I guess we didn’t see each other within the crowd.”

Yang stares at him with hard eyes for a moment before finally shrugging and giving him a healthy pat on the back that makes the poor man start coughing and nearly fall face first. “Welp, what’s done is done, at least you saved our butts back there. Thanks for that by the way.”

“S-Sure, don’t mention it,” he chuckles, trying to regain his breath.

“What was that woman’s problem anyway?” Phoebe chips in, hands on her waist and tired of being in the dark about the whole issue.

The two grown-ups are suddenly reminded of their presence and turn to the twins. Yang makes a complicated expression and crouches in front of them. “It’s... difficult, but she doesn't really have _anything_ against me. Personally at least.”

“But they were all talking behind your back. That’s rude,” Damon adds, stepping next to his sister with a frown.

Yang smiles warmly at them. “It is, but the problem is what I told you before. Huntsmen nowadays have it really tough to find jobs due to the lack of Grimm in the main kingdoms. The only real source of work for the average Huntsman are the Colonies, or the big name companies that go even deeper into the Grimmlands, but that’s only if you have... the right contacts.”

Phoebe hums in understanding. “Like you?”

“Like me,” she nods.

Well, considering the fact that Yang was part of the team that took down the Grimm Queen and worked directly under the orders of some of the most important people in the world, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she has a few friends at the top. It’s… a little unfair for the common people —she supposes—, but after all she’s done she kind of deserves that benefit, in her opinion. 

And now those dirty looks and that woman’s behaviour make sense…

“So they were rude because… they’re envious of you?” Damon deduces, cocking his head.

“To put it bluntly, yeah…”

“Well they’re stupid,” Phoebe declares with her lips pursed.

“Probably,” she laughs, “but many of them have a lot of problems in their lives because they can’t find any jobs. I think you two, better than anyone, can understand how hard life can be with no money, right?”

The twins look at each other, remembering all that they’ve gone through, and nod sympathetically. It’s still not enough reason to go around being a jerk to those who have it better than you, but she can at least understand how those people must feel. They only had to pay for food and beds for the two of them, but some people may have to provide for entire families...

“And by the way,” Yang goes on, smiling knowingly at her, “I’m really happy that you wanted to defend me, Phoebe, but what did we say about picking fights?”

The girl blushes and glances away. “U-Ugh… y-you were angry, too.”

“I was, but that doesn’t mean we should get riled up and snap back at the minor provocation, that would lead to a fight,” Yang rebukes, touching her cheek and smiling briefly at Damon, who beams at her. “We both need to be a little bit more coolheaded, okay?”

Phoebe pouts and lowers her head, slightly ashamed. “Okay…”

“That’s my girl,” the blonde grins from ear to ear, petting her head.

It’s not like she regrets doing it, because she doesn’t, but she gets what she means. It’s the same thing Damon has told her countlessly over the months, but she can’t help it, she just can’t stand people picking up on others. That being said, trying to stand up to a fully-fledged Huntress probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Uh, Yang?” the Headmaster says, looking between the three of them with an arched brow. “Who are these kids?”

“Oh right, sorry. Kids, this is Oscar Pine, the Headmaster of Haven Academy and a good friend of mine and Blake,” she stands up, coming to stand behind them and giving a small tap on the back, her giddy smile already betraying her thoughts. “Now introduce yourselves.”

“I’m Damon Xiao Long, nice to meet you, sir!” her twin announces all too eager.

“Phoebe Belladonna, nice to meet you,” she follows, hands on her waist.

The freckled man stares at the twins with wide eyes, then to Yang, then back to them, and finally to Yang once more. “Wait, then they’re… that means they’re your…”

The blonde crouches again and this time she hugs both of them at the same time, squeezing their blushing cheeks against hers. “Yup! You can call me Yang Xiao _Mom_!”

She then bursts out laughing at her own silly pun, which makes it even _worse_. Phoebe cringes, like, real hard, and gives her brother a ‘can you believe it’ kind of look, but he simply shrugs with an awkward smile and returns the hug just as wholeheartedly. It's going to be hard getting used to her humor, but if Blake managed to accept all of her little quirks, maybe they can too... So she sighs and hugs her back as well.

"Woah, that's… that's awesome, congratulations!" Headmaster Pine exclaims, sitting on his desk with a shocked smile. "When did that happen? I spoke with Ruby yesterday and she didn't tell me anything."

"Yeah… I haven't really told her yet," Yang admits while petting the kids’ heads, ashamed.

"Why not?"

"Because of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually…" she says, standing up and taking out the sheet of paper from within her coat's pockets. “I’d like you to handle my retirement.”

“You’re... retiring? Are you sure?” the man asks, looking down at the piece of paper with a frown.

Yang glances back at them for a moment and beckons them to approach and stand next to her, smiling from ear to ear. “Yeah, I’ve made up my mind.”

When she told them about her plan to retire from being a Huntress, both of them immediately urged her to reconsider it. Even if Blake and her were gone for days or even a week, they wouldn’t have to worry about the twins; they’ve survived for six months in one of the worst environments of the kingdom, so she’s pretty sure they’d be able to live alone in a warm and comfortable house for a few days. They weren’t going to burn down the house or anything…

But apparently, Yang wasn’t just retiring for their sake, she was genuinely tired of being a Huntress and preferred to spend the rest of her days as a peaceful mechanic. But more importantly, she was doing it to be with _them_ , and that alone was enough for Damon and her to be thankful and fully support her. And after seeing how her peers treat her —people that _she’s_ saved, by the way—, it gives all the more reason to put it all behind.

Their vision of Huntsmen as a whole was kind of ruined, to be honest. Up until now, the stories of brave, kind and selfless warriors only seemed to apply to the two amazing women that had welcomed them with open arms without asking anything in return.

“I know Ruby will be totally okay with it, but I’m still trying to figure out how to break the news to her,” Yang goes on, rubbing her neck awkwardly. “So... in case you talk to her before I do, keep the secret, okay?”

The brown haired man glances at the kids once more and then turns to the blonde with a gentle smile. “I’ll be as silent as a tomb.”

“Thanks,” she smirks, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. “Think you can take care of that for me, then? I _could_ have waited until next week and let Glynda deal with it, but our trip schedule is kinda tight… and I’m not sure how busy she is nowadays.”

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry,” he chuckles, picking up the license and taking a seat behind his desk, his cane left leaning against the table (did he just walk without it perfectly fine?). “Miss Goodwitch... has seen better days. I wouldn’t be surprised if she announced Beacon’s closure by the end of the year.”

“Woah, I heard the Academy was doing poorly but... is it that bad?” Yang grimaces.

“It is what it is…,” he shrugs, putting Yang’s license over a big pile of papers and resting against his chair. “We’re headed for a new, hopefully better age, but the transition is going to be rough. All the academies will end up the same sooner or later, so I guess it makes sense for the one which had it worse to turn off the lights first,” both adults grow silent for a few seconds, no doubt reminiscing about something she and her brother can’t understand, but Headmaster Pine quickly slams a hand on his table and turns to the three with renewed light in his hazel eyes. “Anyway, enough with the sentimentalism, the Spring Festival is coming! I suppose you’ll be introducing the little ones to the rest of the gang there.”

“You bet!” she exclaims, pinching their cheeks. “Gotta meet the whole family, right kiddos?”

“Damon, I feel like a piece of meat being thrown into the lion cage…” Phoebe blurts, ignoring the blonde’s joy.

“I-It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll be fine… Probably...” her brother stammers, equally anxious. “It’s not like we’ll become everyone’s plaything, right?”

“Of course not,” Yang shakes her head vigorously, before looking down at them with a wicked smirk. “I mean, definitely not _everyone’s_.”

The siblings gulp at the same time and look at each other, dread and fear reflecting on their eyes. Between living on the streets by themselves and becoming the center of attention of a family full of Yang clones… she doesn’t quite know which sounds more horrific.

To add salt to the wound, the Headmaster starts laughing heartily. “You’re scaring them!”

“Nah, this is nothing for them. These are the toughest seven-year-olds you’ve ever met, trust me,” she declares with a tinge of pride in her voice, something that makes them blush and feel… slightly better about the whole festival thing. “You’re coming this year too, right?”

“I am, but maybe for the second week, depends on how much work this will take,” Headmaster Pine sighs tiredly, gesturing to the mountain of papers. “But yeah, I’m positive I’ll make it for at least a few days.”

“Cool, it’s never the same without the whole troupe,” Yang says, receiving a nod from the man. “Anyway, we won’t trouble you anymore. Thanks again.”

“No problem at all. Well, Phoebe and Damon, was it?” he asks, leaning on the table to look directly at them. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope we’ll talk more during the festival,” he then points at the blonde, smiling teasingly. “And don’t listen to Yang, okay? She’s just messing with you. Everyone’s super kind and funny, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thanks, Mr. Pine.”

“Oh, please no! I have enough getting the ‘Headmaster’ treatment from people older than me. If kids start calling me ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ it’s gonna destroy what little self-esteem I have left,” he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing his hair. “Just call me Oscar.”

The twins share a quick look and then look at him with toothy grins. “Thanks, Oscar!”

It seems a little unrespectful referring to the Headmaster of one of the biggest Huntsmen academies of the entire world by his first name, but as long as he’s offering… It’s honestly reassuring, knowing that a person in such a high position can be so down-to-earth; if he’s anything to go by, then maybe the rest of Yang’s ‘family’ are just as nice and they’re just making a big deal out of nothing.

She wasn’t looking forward to it before —she just wanted to get used to living with Blake and Yang and spend some more time with them before getting into families and stuff—, but who knows? Maybe it will be more exciting than she thought.

“So, Oscar... uh, tell me,” Yang mumbles, rubbing the back of her neck with an awkward laugh, “does the academy have, like, an emergency exit or something?”

Yup, she likes Yang a lot, but they _definitely_ have enough with this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YNJRR stands for Einherjar, pronounced 'einheriar'. I did my best with what I had, I'm sorry... xD
> 
> I've denied you of the rest of the main cast for far too long, but that ends with this new arc! Also, new life, new header, hope you liked it!


	15. Ep II: Chapter 2

The intimidating figure of the massive battleship looms behind the clouds in the black skies, eclipsing the moonlight and casting a giant shadow over the mountains below. The night is dead silent, except for the faint murmur of this dreadnought’s engines rumbling in the distance; the bullhead stealthily stalking it from a few miles away is tiny and harmless in comparison, like a bee approaching an elephant. The small aircraft does not divert from its course, however. It follows the behemoth’s trail with the same patience and cunning of the hunters aboard it.

When the vessel is just a mile away from the battleship, a light on the control panel starts beeping, alerting them that their signal has just been picked up by the humongous aircraft’s radar system. It seems like patience is no longer an option.

Ditching away any form of subtlety, the pilot ignites all of the bullhead’s jets and the ship bursts off like a missile towards its target; they already know they’re here, there’s no use in playing hide and seek anymore. The massive aircraft, unable to aim its weapons at the blind spot they’re using in their approach, responds by unleashing a horde of armed drones to protect its rear. The bullhead counterattacks with a storm of fire from its mounted weapons, but it’s quickly overwhelmed by the hail of warmachines clouding around it.

“They’re blocking the view, I can’t see!” the sharp-eyed pilot exclaims, wildly steering the control wheel to dodge the drone’s defensive fire.

“Open the hatch!” the sniper clad in red shouts, standing up from her seat.

“But they’ll get inside!” the brawler manning the turrets rebukes with wide eyes.

“They won’t, trust me! Just open it!”

The pilot clicks her tongue once more and reluctantly presses the button. The huge gate starts to open slowly, and immediately the ship’s speed creates a vacuum that sucks the air out of the cockpit, nearly absorbing the sniper herself out into the sky. She rams her shoulder against the wall next to the hatch and, even before the gate has opened completely, unfolds her crimson rifle —the tip of the cannon peeking out of the opening— and discharges a volley of Dust-infused rounds at the horde directly in front of the ship.

Each explosive shot takes out a chunk of the drone blob, allowing the moonlight to enter the dark cloud and making their path visible for a few seconds, before the horde regroups and the hole is covered once more. A few machines fly towards the hatch among the chaos, but the woman in red shoots them all down with ease, some of them getting so close to reach the opening that she can even feel the heat emitted from their engines.

“We’re too close now, these things won’t let us deploy the boarding systems!” the pilot roars, struggling to keep the ship’s current course. “You better hold on to something!”

“What are you gonna do?!” the sniper shouts, already dreading her response.

“Tell me we’re not ramming in the bullhead!” the brawler cries without looking at her, too busy keeping the drones at their rear at bay.

“We’re ramming in the bullhead!” the pilot cackles hysterically, closing the hatch and speeding up.

“Oh dear—!”

Putting her weapon away, the shooter has only one second to jump to her seat and fasten her belt before the cloud of rumbling steel and flashing lights in front of them dissolves. Behind it appears the battleship’s hull, nearing at a heart-stopping speed until suddenly… everything goes black.

There’s a loud crash.

The entire bullhead shakes and convulses before one last mighty impact nearly tears the hunters out of their seats.

The ship’s interior is completely dark —the electronics completely wrecked at this point—, but the three occupants are still in one piece; they’ve survived far more deadlier things than a ship collision. The man is the first one to stand up, the sound of his footsteps echoing behind the sniper’s seat.

“You’re both okay?”

“I’ve been… better,” she answers, removing the belt that’s painfully digging into her stomach.

“Don’t be so whiny,” comes the voice of the pilot, unsheathing her bright blue Dust sword to give them some light.

“Shut up! Now prepare yourselves!” she commands, drawing her trusty weapon again and cocking it with an eager grin. “We’re gonna have one hell of a welcome.”

Her two companions smile fiercely, the brawler deploying his combat gauntlets as the three take positions around the broken hatch. She counts down from three with her fingers, and then the man kicks the gate open, tearing the already shattered hinges and making the lower door burst off completely, trampling a bunch of droids that were already around the bullhead with their weapons ready. They don’t waste a moment and jump down from the wasted airship, forming a defensive circle in the middle of the plethora of combat droids pointing their guns at them; judging by the dozens of deactivated robots hanging from racks on the walls, they must have crashed into the drone storage room.

They can’t waste time here, their target is close… they can feel it.

A drop of sweat slides down the sniper’s brow and falls to the ground, and a second later the three spring into action. The hunter clad in red gets down on one knee and holds her position, taking out row after row of whirring machines with each discharge of her heavy rifle. Her blade-wielding companion jumps and twirls around the air, cutting off robotic heads with the grace of a sparrow and the fierceness of a hawk, while the brawler crushes them under his grip and turns them to scrap with his rocket gauntlets.

In mere seconds, the full robotic entourage that had welcomed them is reduced to a fuming pile of twisted metal, but it doesn't take long until a whole new group gets activated and lowered from the racks —like snacks from a vending machine—, ready to take over their fallen comrades.

"More toys to play, huh?!" the swordswoman spits with a flourish of her blade.

"They'll just keep coming, we have to move!" the man shouts, back to back against her.

He's right, this will get them nowhere. Fortunately, she has a little trick under her sleeve for the occasion.

The sniper takes out her special devastating ammo —made from an awesome mix of Dust powder— and jams it into the barrel of her weapon with an eager smirk. One last humongous explosive shot creates an opening among the new batch of droids that leads to a door at the back. That's their exit! She then stands up —weapon still in hand— and kicks the ground, running towards it while shouting back to her partners, "Team, forward!"

The two other hunters immediately follow her, taking advantage of the confusion created by the explosion. Together, the team crosses the door and dives deep into the battleship’s belly, rushing through hallways and obliterating all resistance with brutal efficiency and perfectly coordinated attacks.

It’s not long before they reach a colossal chamber with two massive Dust tanks lined up at one side and producing a low rumbling sound. At the far end of the room there’s another tank, and next to it, a giant armored droid refilling its energy systems, no doubt preparing itself for their arrival, and the ruthless onslaught they seek; they’re not going to disappoint it. As soon as they barge into the chamber, the team of veteran hunters take an offensive formation, readying their weapons and focusing their gazes on their prey.

“Evil machine, your end is near! Come forth and face our wrath!” the sniper shouts, cocking her weapon.

The vicious automaton turns its glowing visor-eye-things in their direction, exhales a cloud of burning steam from the venting orifice in its head —emitting a low murmur that sounds kind of amused— and turns away, ignoring them completely.

“I said... ‘ _Evil machine, your end is near, come forth and face our wrath_ ’!” she repeats with a deep scowl.

The droid turns to them once more, hatred and fury flaring like an inferno in its eyes, when all of a sudden its voice comes out, deep, sinister and distorted. “I told you we’d play after I’m done, muffin.”

…

“Dad! You’re ruining the immersion!” Aster groans, stomping her foot and lowering her slingshot.

At her side, Phoebe relaxes, lowering her improvised weapon as well —a newspaper all rolled up and covered with tape— and frowning at the brunette. Seriously, if Aster knew her dad was still busy they could’ve just played by themselves elsewhere. Now they have to start the mission from the beginning...

“I’m sorry, sweetie. But this shouldn’t take much longer, right beautiful?” Basil chuckles once more, petting the side of the cow next to him before moving his stool closer to her front and resuming the brushing work on her neck. The huge animal moos appreciatively in response and carries on eating from the grain sack.

When they first met the brunette’s dad, Phoebe half expected the barn to house at least a dozen cows, like all those pictures in her books and on TV. Surprisingly, aside from the one the man is currently grooming, there are only two more —three if she counts the calf sleeping behind one of them— resting in the stalls; maybe their business is only the sheep, and the cows are more like… pets, she supposes?

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” Damon, who’s wearing a pair of old kitchen mittens as weapons, apologizes with a bashful look.

“Yeah, _Aster_ told us you were free,” Phoebe adds, glaring at her new friend and shoving her lightly on the shoulder. The culprit merely looks away, feigning ignorance.

“That’s okay, she’s always been as impatient as her old man,” Basil answers, eyeing his daughter knowingly. “And I told you, Damon, just call me Bas. We’re neighbours, boy!”

“Okay, sorry... Bas,” Damon nods with a tiny smile, before his eyes suddenly light up and he scampers to the man’s side with a spring in his step, staring at the cow with an astonished gaze. “Woah… I’ve never seen a real cow before, they’re huge!”

“They really are, right?” he responds just as merrily, brushing the animal behind the ears.

“Hey, don’t break formation!” Aster complains, hands on her waist, but goes completely unnoticed.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t bite,” the farmer tells him with a lopsided grin, noticing how the boy keeps his distance despite the curious glint in his eyes. “As long as you’re gentle, she won’t get mad.”

Her twin gulps and slowly reaches out with his hand, caressing the cow’s massive side. The animal doesn’t even seem to notice, but judging by the delicate way in which the boy is touching her —almost as if he thought he could break her if he pressed too hard—, it doesn’t come as a surprise.

“Ohhhh, they _do_ have hair! I always thought they were all skin like us!” Damon exclaims cheerfully, sliding his hand all over the cow’s side.

Basil laughs warmly. “Of course they have.”

“What? They do?” Phoebe asks with wide eyes, leaving Aster’s side as well to join them. “Lemme see!”

“You too? Huh, city kids…” the shepherd says with a resigned sigh, dragging her feet tiredly after them.

“Hey, cut us some slack. All this country-farmy stuff is new for us,” she shoots back at the girl, arriving at her twin’s side and gently touching the cow like him. She instantly gawks at it, rubbing her palm all over the animal’s side; there is indeed a short layer of hair covering all of its body, similar to a dog or a cat. “Woaah, you’re right! It’s kinda like touching a rug!”

“You guys really thought they were naked like pigs?” Aster blows a raspberry while crossing her arms with an amused expression. “That’s silly.”

Damon gets red in the face, absentmindedly kicking the ground. “W-Well, yeah… But it’s not our fault.”

“Of course not. The closest we’ve ever been to a cow was in pictures, and there’s no way to tell based on those,” Phoebe argues with her lips pursed, still caressing the cow’s bristle. “I mean, look at it, it’s so short…”

“Mmh, I guess,” the brunette shrugs.

This might sound a bit stupid for Aster, but she’s spent her entire life free to wander around the meadows, playing with animals and doing the sort of stuff the twins could only dream about. Contrarily, they’ve been living inside of a cage for longer than they can remember, their whole world reduced to those four streets around the orphanage on the lower district limits; books and TV were their only window to the wonders of Remnant. So yeah, Phoebe likes to think that due to their circumstances, they’re allowed to be in awe at every tiny little detail.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s perfectly normal. The first time I came to Mistral I was amazed by how green, lively and pretty everything here was,” Basil explains with an amicable look. “It was my first time seeing farm animals too, and I was way older than you at the time. I can understand how awesome all of this must be to you both.”

Right, Aster’s dad was actually from Atlas, wasn’t he? If Phoebe’s own kingdom is unfamiliar to her, then Atlas even more so. She knows the general stuff about it, like the cold, the snow, the big fancy cities... but she wasn’t sure if there was actually nature, forests and all that like Mistral anywhere in the kingdom. Seems like there aren’t, after all.

“It _is_ really pretty,” she agrees, to which Damon hums and nods heartily, both of them still immersed in the softness of the animal’s hide.

The man then glances at her daughter and stretches his arm to playfully poke at her belly with the brush. “So no picking on your new friends over that, muffin. You hear?”

Aster recoils —her thick wooly skirt fluttering by the movement—, giggling and swatting his hand away. “O-Okay, okay!”

“That’s better. Now, how about you three take a break outside while I finish here? There’s a bowl of wild berries in the living room, take it and have a snack in the meantime,” he offers with a wink before standing up and setting the stool on the other side of the cow.

“Did mom go gathering again?! Nice!” Aster squeals, glancing at the twins with a glint in her eye. “New mission, team! We gotta resupply and prepare for the coming battle, move out!” she then turns around and starts walking without even waiting for their response.

It’s not like Phoebe really cares about who’s in charge, because —despite having been the unofficial leader of their little group of friends back at the orphanage— she _most definitely_ doesn’t. And it’s not like she’s against the plan either, she really could use the break (and the snack!) before Aster’s dad joins their games. But nevertheless, her eye twitches a little at the easy way in which the shepherd orders them around.

“Aren’t you getting a little too bossy?” she glowers at her friend.

“Huh? But you said I could be the team leader,” the girl looks back with a raised eyebrow, playing innocent.

“We did, sis,” Damon adds in an appeasing tone, but an ice cold glare from his twin makes him go silent again.

“You _did_ , with everything the title involves,” Aster quickly points out with an irritating smile. “So come on, follow me, _Terror Twins_!”

“Aye, aye, _Bowmaiden_!” the boy eagerly shouts at the mention of their nickname, gently pushing Phoebe in the direction of the brunette. She groans internally and sighs, but gives up and allows her brother to lead her out of the barn; they _did_ promise her, so the only thing she can do is endure it until the day’s over, unfortunately.

As they leave the building, Bas’ voice comes out from the back. “Just don’t eat too many, alright?! The last thing I need are three angry women telling me off because you skipped dinner!”

“Yeah, don’t worry!” his daughter calls back.

They’ll try, but no promises. It’ll still take some time for them to improve their self-restraint when it comes to food…

After retrieving the bowl filled with juicy-looking red berries, the three of them wander off to the fields behind the Talanta’s house —around the same place they met Aster and her herd a few days ago— and just sit around and relax until Basil is done, but not before the brunette double checked the fence protecting the sheep to make sure it was closed. The twins have known Aster for just a few days, and it’s been enough for Phoebe to realize what an excitable piece of work she is, but she has to admit that the girl really takes her duties seriously. She’s not as awesome a leader as Phoebe is —who nearly accomplished the greatest cookie theft in the history of Mistral—, but that’s certainly a nice boon.

As the twins munch on the berries while sitting on top of a rock, another pebble whistles through the air and hits yet another empty can, sending it toppling to the ground with the other nine.

“Woah, you’re fo goof!” Damon cheers, mouth full of the little fruits and lips stained red.

Aster stands triumphantly in front of them, spinning her crimson slingshot and blowing at the tip like a gunslinger with a revolver, and not without reason, she just shot down ten cans in a row, without failing even once. “See? I’m the best shooter at this side of the village,” she raises her palm and Damon flings her a berry, which she successfully catches and plops into her mouth, giving the boy a thumbs up, “wanna give it a try?”

Right after she makes the offer, he immediately gulps down the berries and jumps down from the rock with his eyes wide open. “Really?!”

“Sure, I’ll teach you!” the brunette beams at him, then turns to Phoebe. “What about you, grumpy?”

Phoebe smirks and lies back comfortably on the rock, waving her hand at them. “I’m more of a swords kind-of-girl, so I think I’ll pass.”

“But you should still have something to shoot from afar, sis. That’s, like, a basic Huntsmen rule,” Damon rebukes matter-of-factly, leaving his mittens next to her. “Even my gauntlets have rocket launchers!”

“Up until a few days ago, your weapon was a sword too, dummy!” she chortles.

The sudden change in her brother’s character weapon of choice is obviously Yang’s influence. And although it’s mildly disappointing knowing they no longer have that ‘identical twin fightstyle’ thing going on, she supposes it’s nice having the badass samurai role all to herself now; those are always the coolest in every story. And to be honest, Damon never really knew how to pull off that edgy vibe required for the character.

“Not anymore!” Aster exclaims gleefully, sliding an arm over Damon’s shoulder. “Damon has seen the way of the marksman, right?!”

“Weeell… kinda. Phoebe likes close combat, and you like shooting, so I thought I could be a little mix of both. That way we’re all unique!” he chirps, sliding his own arm over her shoulders.

Aster hums to herself for a moment and ends up shrugging. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Welp, I’m gonna stay here keeping the berries safe while you dorks go all shooty-shooty. Give me a touch whenever we’re... ready to start the mission,” she mumbles lazily —yawning halfway through the sentence—, then crosses her legs and gets more comfortable on the rock, sliding the bowl conveniently close to her.

“Just don’t go nuts with them, okay? Or my dad will get mad,” Aster warns in a serious tone, eyeing the berries.

She blindly fishes one from the bowl and plops it into her mouth, eyes still closed and facing the sky. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, I’m just gonna eat a couple more. I’m not that hungry.”

“That’s a lie, she’s always hungry,” Damon adds teasingly.

“Shush! Away with you two!”

“Anyway,” the brunette sighs, and she can almost hear the eye-rolling in her voice, “come on Damon, I’ll show you how to hold it so at least you don’t shoot your own eye out.”

“M-My what?!” the boy whimpers in distress, his voice moving away from Phoebe until both become a faint murmur, loud just enough for her to catch on if she focuses on it.

The rock feels cool under her skin, its surface hard but smooth without bumps or anything that could dig into her back, and vastly cleaner than the filthy streets she’s so used to; all in all, the perfect spot to take a quick nap. The breeze doesn’t make it any easier to remain awake, since it makes her hair gently flutter and tickle her arms, making her feel like she’s surrounded by clouds, but she tries her best. Only the heavens know what would happen to her if she fell asleep so close to her playful twin and their new nutcase of a friend...

Time flies by in peace and silence, only disturbed by the rubbery smacks of the slingshot and the pebbles surging through the air, but this time in the absence of the sound of cans falling to the ground. She makes out the frustrated groans of her brother after each unsuccessful shot, followed by the amused giggles of the shepherd girl, and she can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of her lips, or bursting out laughing on the inside after each little tantrum he throws.

Yup, swords are just easier.

True to her word, Phoebe hasn’t eaten any more berries while Aster and Damon are away, but the sweet fruity taste has nearly faded from her mouth, so it shouldn’t be wrong to eat a few, at least until Aster’s dad shows up to play. Yeah, the bowl isn’t even halfway empty, so it won’t make a difference if she picks three or four. Stretching her arm without moving from her comfortable position, the faunus digs her hand into the bowl… and grabs nothing but air as her fingers reach down to the plastic bottom.

Her eyes shoot wide open and she bolts upright —nearly falling from the rock in the process—, now _terribly_ awake. She puts the bowl on her lap and looks directly at it, only to confirm what her hand already told her.

Save for three berries rolling around at the bottom, the recipient is all but empty.

“W-What the—?” she mutters, a cold sweat sliding down her back.

“Phoebe! Did you eat all of them?!” she hears Aster exclaim in shock.

Looking up from the bowl, she discovers that both Damon and the brunette couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to stop their little shooting game. Aster looks outraged to say the least, hands on her waist and scowling at her in a way that she has never seen on the girl’s face until now. A part of her mind reasons that it must be a prank, schemed by the two of them while she was lazing on the rock… But as soon as she glances at her twin, she dumps that idea in a second. Damon is biologically incapable of fooling her when it comes to this kind of pranks. No matter how hard he tries, she always sees through his skittish, giggling and nervous facades.

But right now he’s not just looking at her, she’s giving her a fully charged ‘mom look’. And that calm and serene look of disappointment confirms the reality of the situation.

“Phoebe…” he sighs under his breath, shaking his head and piercing her with his emerald eyes.

“I-It wasn’t me, I swear!” she stutters in panic, leaving the bowl aside and jumping down from the rock. “I’ve been lying there without having any the whole time, and when I tried to grab one it was... empty!”

Aster throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “It wasn’t you?! The bowl was half full just ten minutes ago and it wasn’t you?! Did the berries _vanish_ into thin air or what?!” she whines, then stomps her foot on the ground and turns around to keep venting her frustration. “Uuuugh, I barely had any!”

Phoebe ignores the girl and turns to look at her twin, grabbing the bowl and nervously presenting it to him. “Damon, it wasn’t me. They were all gone before I even noticed, I-I _promise_...” she pleads, looking him in the eyes. 

Her brother keeps his severe gaze on her for a few agonizing seconds, until his expression finally softens and he gives her a gentle smile. “Okay… Maybe, huh, maybe they fell to the ground or something,” he ventures while looking down to the grass.

“‘ _Maybe they fell_?’” Aster repeats, turning to them with a raised eyebrow. “And the bowl just happened to be there again when she tried to pick a berry?”

“I’m… not sure,” Phoebe mumbles dejectedly, looking around as well with no explanation to give her.

“If she says she didn’t do it, she _didn’t_ do it,” Damon interjects, turning his deadly ‘mom look’ to the brunette and standing between her and Phoebe. 

The shepherd doesn’t seem nearly as deterred as her when confronted by the ‘mom look’, puffing her chest and frowning at the boy with her lips pursed. “Then how do you explain it?”

“I don’t know, but if your teammate promises she didn’t do it, you have to trust her,” he declares stubbornly, crossing his arms with a pout of his own. “That’s what team leaders do, right?”

“I, huh, w-well…” this seems to make Aster falter and break her stance, lowering her gaze in slight regret; she did sound very fond of the berries when Basil told them, so maybe her belly got the best of her. Phoebe has an easy switch with certain things too, so she kind of understands her outburst…

The rouge-eyed girl is about to answer back when they hear something nearby. It’s a short and loud rumble sound, similar to a growl but more high-pitched, almost like… a burp? The three kids turn their heads towards the source of the sound, a small patch of bushes right behind the rock Phoebe was lying on. Some leaves move in a suspicious manner. The twins look back at Aster with questioning looks, but she seems just as confused as them. Wordlessly, the brunette draws her slingshot, grabs a pebble and closes in to the bushes, aiming her weapon at them; Phoebe and Damon follow close behind her.

When they reach the shrubs, Aster looks back at her, and Phoebe immediately catches on, moving in front of her and getting ready to move the plants aside to give her a clean shot to whatever is hiding inside. One sharp nod from the shepherd and Phoebe grabs a handful of leaves and moves them aside in a quick movement, shutting her eyes close.

She hears Aster tautening the elastic rubber and…!

…!

…

…

The hit never comes, and instead she hears her twin and her friend gasp. Slowly opening her eyes, she notices their shocked expressions and turns to look inside the bush.

There, beneath the leaves, is a small black animal with a pinky snout sitting peacefully on the grass with its mouth completely stained red, still munching on the pile of berries it so shamelessly stole from them. Its tiny eyes look back at them innocently as it keeps eating without a care in the world, making small adorable grunts.

“Awwww, it’s a baby pig!” Damon exclaims, walking around Aster to crouch in front of the animal, causing it to recoil deeper into the bush. “How cute!”

Phoebe chuckles, exhaling a breath of relief and turning to Aster. “Guess that solves the berry disappearance mystery. You owe me an apology, muffin!”

“Y-Yeah... I’m sorry,” the girl answers absent-mindedly, her eyes fixated on the piglet, barely paying any attention to her. That’s weird... Even Phoebe can tell there’s something wrong when their usually high-strung new friend gets awfully quiet all of a sudden.

“What is it?” she asks while raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know your family had pigs, Aster. Hey, come here little buddy!” Damon comments, still trying to get the tiny animal to get closer to him. “This one’s so fluffy, though. Didn’t you say pigs were naked?”

“We don’t. And they are,” she blurts, answering both questions with a frown.

“Then?” Phoebe asks, confused.

“That’s not a farm piglet, it’s a wild boar.”

Both twins grow silent, looking worriedly at each other, at the animal and finally at their friend. “But… Why is it here in the middle of the fields? Don’t they live in the forest?” Phoebe inquires, gesturing to the dense mass of trees a small distance away from them.

“Yup, that’s the weird thing,” the shepherd responds, suddenly jumping on top of the rock —her skirt and scarf waving with the breeze— and staring into the distance all around them with a grimace. “It must have gotten separated from its mom somehow, and then wandered out here looking for food.”

Damon’s face contorts, looking down at the piglet in pity. “Poor thing… What’s gonna happen to it?”

“It will probably starve to death... if it doesn’t get preyed by another animal first,” Aster mumbles dejectedly while jumping down from the rock, eyeing the piglet once more. “A grown boar wouldn’t have much trouble with foxes or hawks, but one so small…”

Phoebe doesn’t even want to imagine it. The simple thought of the tiny and helpless animal wandering all alone trying to find its mom, only to be discovered by a hungry predator… is gut-wrenching. It evokes a primal instinct within her, a sort of empathy; it hasn’t even been a week since Phoebe and her twin were in an oddly similar position...

Damon turns to look at Aster with hope in his eyes. “There has to be something we can do.”

"We could... try finding its mom," she suggests with a determined look, setting her hands on her waist. "Boars often come near the border of the forest looking for those berries," she points to the red stains on the piglet's snout, "my mom and I see them every now and then, whenever we go gathering together."

“So you mean… we go into the forest?” Phoebe raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“But… Blake and Yang told us to never go there by ourselves,” Damon points out with a frown.

“You’re not alone, you’re with the _Bowmaiden_!” she claims with a big smirk. “People have gotten lost a few times, but that’s because they don’t know their way around. I told you my mom and I go there all the time, I know the forest like the back of my hand… or the borders at least.”

She has no reason to doubt Aster in this if she really goes berry-gathering with her mom, but it’s true that Blake and Yang told them the forest was strictly off-limits; it’d be awful of the twins to break their first rule not even a week after the adoption. That being said, they can’t just let the poor piglet by itself without doing something… She can endure a scolding, but she can’t endure leaving a poor baby to its luck, much less being responsible for its death.

“Okay, I say we do it,” Phoebe declares, standing up like a soldier ready to go to war.

The brunette perks up, smiling victoriously. “Yes! What do you say, Damon?”

The boy glances between them, fidgeting nervously. “I... I don’t kno—”

“Two against one, the ‘yes’ wins!” Aster quickly interrupts, coming to stand between them and looking down at the piglet. “First things first, we need to catch it. You two go behind him and make it come out, then I’ll grab it when it tries to escape.”

“Be sure to grab it,” Phoebe warns, going around the bush. Damon does the same, albeit reluctantly; it’s clear by the look in his face that he doesn’t fully agree with the shepherd’s plan.

Once the three have formed a triangle around the bush, Aster opens her arms and shouts “Now!” and right away the twins jump at the piglet at the same time, trying to get a hold of it. The tiny animal, as expected, squeaks in fear and bursts out running out of the shrubs and into the brunette, who also tries to close her arms around it, but it seems they underestimated the animal’s speed. The little noisy ball of fur slips right between her legs —making the girl fall flat on her face— and shoots off straight to the village, grunting and squeaking on its way.

“Don’t let it get away!” Phoebe shouts, dragging herself up and chasing after it without wasting a second; if they lose it, then it’s all over.

“It’s heading to the town square!” she hears her brother’s voice right behind her.

They run as fast as they can without wasting a second to regain their breath, following the tiny —but hellishly fast— black dot to the center of the village, where it quickly disappears out of their view behind the inn. Once the kids finally stumble their way to the middle of the square, they start looking everywhere. There are a couple of men —which Phoebe assumes are more neighbours— walking peacefully by, probably on an afternoon stroll. Aster takes it upon herself to stop them in their tracks and ask them, but she visibly deflates when they simply shake their heads and resume their walk.

“N-Nothing?” Damon asks while gasping for air as the girl rejoins them.

“Nothing,” she confirms with a sigh. “I don’t think it’s still running away, though. It must be hidden somewhere around here.”

“But where?” Phoebe wonders.

It’s at that moment... that they hear the voice they least want to hear of all Himawari.

“What are you three up to?”

The kids freeze up like statues, looking at each other like thieves caught red-handed. At the same time, they slowly turn around —only because doing otherwise would be like conjuring a storm upon themselves—, and come face to face with the wrinkled and grimacing visage of Mrs. Mellivor. Looking at her up close, she resembles a witch even more than the first time Phoebe saw her, with her hooked nose, half glasses and grumpy expression.

“Nothing, ma’am. We’re just playing around,” Aster quickly answers with her hands behind her back, trying to look as pure and innocent as possible; it’s clear by the way she so effortlessly puts up the facade, that this isn’t the first time she’s used this card against the old hag.

The woman’s sharp eyes pierce her for a couple of seconds —during which the brunette seems to hold her breath— until they inevitably fall on the twins. She proceeds to study them from head to toe in complete silence, raising one of her thick hairy eyebrows. “You two look more presentable,” she finally mumbles in the same gruff, dry tone.

That’s… not as bad as she expected, but it’s rude nonetheless, and awkward.

Phoebe doesn’t know how she’s supposed to respond to that, so she remains silent. Damon, however, can’t help to be polite. “T-Thank you,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s been a few days, for how long are you going to stay with your cousin?” the old woman then inquires abruptly.

Well, shoot… They talked about this whole dilemma this very morning, but she didn’t expect to be forced to deal with it so soon! What should they say, the truth? She has no idea how this grouchy old lady is going to react. For all she knows, she may give them a slap on the wrist or something like that… But if they keep up the lie, it’ll just be worse once she finds out.

Then…

“Yeah, we’re staying until spring break is over. Blake invited us to spend the holidays with her and her wife,” she smiles as politely as she can, meeting her brother’s insecure and distressed look for a moment before regarding Mrs. Mellivor again.

It seems like a plausible lie to her… right?

The woman hums to herself for a moment, eyes darting between her and her squirming sibling. “Huh, I see. Well... enjoy the holiday,” it’s all she says before she picks up the grocery bags she put on the floor with a groan and walks past the trio, her rough-looking badger tail almost brushing the ground after her. Phoebe would let out a breath of relief, but the woman would probably hear her…

And don’t be mistaken, she didn’t lie because she’s afraid of the woman, but because they’re in a hurry. Time is running short and they can’t afford to waste it enduring a lecture right now, they need to spread around the square and find the piglet.

The piglet…

The piglet is right there!

As Mrs. Mellivor walks towards her house, a small furry head with a rosy snout peeks out of one of her bags for the three kids to see —almost as if making fun of them—, glancing around innocently before diving in among the vegetables again.

“O-Oh, no…” Damon stammers, dropping on his knees.

Aster starts pulling her hair. “You gotta be kidding!”

Phoebe stands there, petrified, only able to muster a weak, “Now we’ve done it...”

And just like that, the old witch opens the door and disappears inside of her lair with the naive hostage in her grasp, waiting for a team of brave hunters to storm into her dominion and save the day before the poor baby meets an untimely end.


	16. Ep II: Chapter 3

“S-So? Do you, ugh, see anything?” Damon asks, his knees shaking under her friend’s weight. “W-Where’s… the piggy?”

“She’s just entered the kitchen with the bags. Doesn’t seem like she’s noticed the little one yet,” Aster responds, peeking through the closed window. “Phoebe, are you ready?”

Beyond the fence and next to the house entrance, his sister nods sternly and gives them an okay sign. He’s still not completely sure about this whole idea of breaking into someone’s house without their permission, because it could backfire really, _really_ bad; if the old lady finds them, hell’s going to break loose. And not just for them, for Blake and Yang too. And he’d hate causing them any trouble…

But they can’t leave the piglet alone with the old woman. He doesn’t even want to think about what could happen if she discovers the poor animal. They have to get it out of there as soon as possible.

“Aaaaaaand, now!” Aster shouts in a whisper.

At that moment, Phoebe runs to the front door and starts ringing the bell.

“Okay, okay, she’s putting the bags on the floor and… she’s going to the entrance, now’s our chance!” the brunette exclaims, shifting her feet on Damon’s hands and opening the window, stepping on his head in the process.

“Hey, watch out!”

She looks down at him and puts a finger to her lips, frowning. They stand there waiting for a few seconds in complete silence until the front door opens and they hear Mrs. Mellivor and Phoebe’s voices. His sister volunteered for that part of the plan —since Aster already said she’d be the one going inside to rescue the pig, as it had been her idea—, while he simply helped their friend get inside, but his twin won’t be able to hold her for too long.

Aster nods to herself and glances at him again with the resolution of a soldier who’s about to go into battle. “Okay, distraction achieved. Now stay here and get ready.”

“Okay…”

The girl peeks into the kitchen one last time, swallows her doubts and jumps inside, allowing Damon to get a small break and rest his hands. His moment of respite is short-lived, however, as he immediately hears the distraught squeals of the baby pig coming from the house, along with Aster’s silent complaints. “No! Eh, wai—! No, no, no!”

“Aster, what’s happening?” Damon asks while standing on his tiptoes, trying to raise his voice just enough for her to hear without alerting the owner of the house. From there he can see the fridge, the cabinets, the table, and a small mop of brunette hair moving desperately around the place.

“This... darned pig... just won’t… stay put!” she growls under her breath in between the piggy’s distressed grunts, until she finally stops and waves at him. “This is too much! Damon, come here and give me a hand!”

He nearly lets go and falls on his butt. “W-What?!”

“I said _come here_!”

“Yeah, I heard you! But that wasn’t part of the plan!” Damon rebukes anxiously.

If he wasn’t barely able to look inside, he’s sure he’d be seeing Aster go red and start fuming from the ears. “Xiao Long, get your butt in here _right now_! That’s an order from your leader!”

He simply whines in response, sighing tiredly and starting to climb up the window.

  


* * *

  


“My… tail?” Mrs. Mellivor repeats with a grimace, glaring down at her from the threshold. There are a couple of beautifully-painted ceramic vases on top of the stand behind her, to which Phoebe glances everytime she feels overwhelmed by the witch’s gaze. That is to say… every few seconds.

The only reason why she chose to take this part of the mission is because Damon would’ve been found out in less than a second, and then the whole operation would’ve been compromised. Phoebe, on the other hand, has a long career of dealing and lying to grown-ups (almost always for good reasons), although she has to admit that this old lady is by far the most fearsome opponent she’s ever faced; the rude Huntress from this morning was like an angry puppy compared to the freezing glare of this old crone.

“That’s right!” she nods vigorously, fighting the urge to turn around and escape. “I didn’t notice you were a faunus the first time we met, ma’am. So I was wondering what kinda tail it was. You know, a fox’s, a wolf’s...”

In retrospect, she could have found a more suitable excuse to keep the woman busy while Aster handled the rescue, but she didn’t know enough —if anything at all— about the hag to come up with something better.

But desperate times call for desperate measures…

“Are you always that impertinent to people you _barely_ even know, girl?” the woman snaps drily, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I-I…”

Whatever polite response Phoebe may have had prepared dies instantly as Mrs. Mellivor’s sharp-tongued retort slaps her across the face. Her eye twitches almost imperceptibly and a small vein in her forehead pops out. This is around the time she explodes and gives the mouthy old hag a piece of her mind, but then remembers why she’s doing it and just bites her tongue to keep the cavalcade of expletives she had in store from coming out.

So instead she laughs it off, clenching her dagger-sharp teeth if only so she doesn’t jump at the woman and bite one of her fingers off. “Yeah, Blake’s always telling me the same, that I’m as curious as a _cat_!”

…

…

…

Kill her now, please.

“Have a good evening,” she utters before ruthlessly slamming the door in her face.

“No, wai—!”

  


* * *

  


“Come on, go left!” Aster orders.

“My left or your left?”

“My left!”

He complies and moves to his right. The piggy scurries through the gap they leave open when they suddenly jump in different directions.

“ _Left_! I said _left_!” she snaps, glaring daggers at him.

Damon throws his hands in the air, losing his cool and baring his fangs. “That’s _not_ your left, that’s mine!”

“Guuh, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore…” the brunette groans anxiously, ruffling her own hair.

They’ve been trying to corner the pig for about a minute, moving constantly around the kitchen and failing miserably as the little thing keeps running under the table each time they manage to get close enough. And the fact they can’t properly shout except with these tiny whispered yells only adds to the frustration. Damon rarely feels the need to shout, not even during their cookie theft from last year, but this whole situation is on another level.

“Okay, this isn’t really working,” she says after taking a breath, “we need to find another way t—”

They suddenly hear the front door shutting close… It seems like Phoebe just couldn’t hold Mrs. Mellivor any longer.

Damon turns pale white. “No, no, no, no!”

They’re criminals. She’s going to find them rummaging through her stuff after they broke inside, like burglars! And then she’ll call the police. Blake and Yang will be so disappointed in them that they’ll revoke the adoption, and he and his sister will be back to the orphanage. Then someday a new family will come and take her away and leave him all alo—!

“Damon, snap out of it! We gotta move!” Aster starts shaking his shoulders.

He hears steps approaching. Aster’s right, they need to leave right now, this isn’t the time to lose it.

“B-But what about the piggy?!” he mutters under his breath in panic as the animal glares at them distrustingly. After everything they’ve put it through, it’s no wonder.

Aster bites her lip and darts her eyes across the kitchen, to the animal and then to the entrance in front of them, opposite to the one the footsteps are approaching from. Her eyes light up in hope. “We need more time,” she concludes, turning around and waving her arms threateningly at the piglet. “Shoo! Shoo! C’mon, that way! Shoo!”

The baby pig recoils at her advance and turns tail right away, scamping out of the kitchen with its tiny hooves scratching against the floor. Aster looks back at Damon for just a second to beckon him to follow, and they both immediately chase after the animal as quietly as possible. Just in time, apparently, since the moment they leave the kitchen they hear the old woman enter from the other side.

This is just getting worse by the second…

They follow the piglet to what appears to be the living room, which looks kinda more like an antiquary with the intricate-patterned tapestry covering the walls, the old-looking photos sitting on every shelf and even the typical chandelier hanging from the ceiling; but perhaps it’s the general smell of the house, reminiscent of the old cellar back at the orphanage, what throws him off. Several big framed pictures garnish the walls, showing images of people wearing old clothes —he distinguishes Mrs. Mellivor among the unfamiliar faces thanks to her faunus tail—, but he can’t spare a second to nose around as much as he’d like. As soon as they enter the room, the piggy makes a sharp turn and shoots upstairs, leaving both kids on the first floor, grinding their teeth together.

“Great, just great,” Aster exhales, looking back at him and shrugging in resignation. “We can’t leave it here…”

Damon grimaces, but nods to her unspoken question. “We’re already criminals anyway…”

“We might as well go through with this to the end.”

“Yeah…”

Not like they have much of a choice.

Together, they ascend to the second floor and arrive at an empty corridor with the same weird fabric on the walls and several open doors at each side, with absolutely no clue as to which one the piglet has gone through; first they played catch, and now it’s hide and seek, apparently... Aster hums to herself and steps in front of him, tapping her chin and squinting her eyes at each door.

“We should split up. The rooms on the right are yours, and I’ll check the ones on the left, okay? If you find it, well... do what you can without making a ruckus,” she suggests with a shrug, looking defeated. The pig has already made clear it doesn’t trust them one bit, and it’s a lot faster than them too… so they’re still pretty helpless in the ‘capturing’ department, but they have to try.

“Okay, but let’s hurry. If she decides to come up here, we’re pretty much done for,” he hisses, moving to the first door on the right.

“On the bright side,” he hears her chuckling sarcastically, “this is far more interesting than our other mission, huh?”

Damon doesn’t respond, but he hopes his anxious groan is a good enough answer.

  


* * *

  


Phoebe keeps pacing around beyond the fence next to the house, glancing every few seconds at the window Aster and Damon went through almost ten minutes ago. Her frown deepens. Damon going inside too was not part of the plan, his job was only to help her get in, and nothing more. If she’d known he’d have to follow the brunette, she would’ve never agreed to it.

She can see Mrs. Mellivor busy unpacking and storing her groceries, so at least she knows her twin and her friend are fine —wherever they are—, but this wait is driving her insane. She assumes they left the kitchen the moment they heard the door closing —thanks to the grumpy woman’s short temper—, but if they’re still chasing the pig, it would only take a vase being knocked down for the whole plan to explode.

And Mrs. Mellivor looks like the kind of boring old lady to have vases on every single table…

Eyeing the house once more, Phoebe can do little more than sigh and tap her feet impatiently. “Come on, guys. You gotta get out of there fast...”

  


* * *

  


The first room is a regular bathroom, which doesn't usually have a lot of hiding spots, so he quickly searches through it and moves on, finding no trace of the piglet. Unless the tiny animal jumped down the toilet and swimmed its way to freedom, which is unlikely. But it _did_ manage to sneak inside one of the old lady’s grocery bags without her noticing, so who knows?

Nevertheless, he chooses to believe that a baby animal living in a forest doesn’t have more swimming experience than him, if only to protect his dwindling self-esteem.

The second room is also empty. Of pigs, that is. It turns out to be a small storage room, half the size of the one back at Blake and Yang’s hou—, back at _home_ —he quickly corrects himself, smiling briefly—, but this one somehow manages to fit double the amount of stuff. And that’s precisely the reason why he’s sure the piglet isn’t there. Because as small as it is, there is no physical way in which the animal would fit between such tiny gaps and crevices. And deep down he’s grateful for that, because if he had to dive in there he’d probably emerge even dirtier than the entire time he lived on the streets…

He meets Aster briefly in the corridor as she comes out of one of the other doors; they don’t say anything to each other, since their faces say it all. They only have one more room each, so they exchange nods and part ways again. He kind of hopes the piglet is in her room and not his; trying to catch it by himself seems like a recipe for disaster…

The last room appears to be a bedroom.

There is a single green bed at the back, next to a nightstand, both weakly illuminated by the light filtering from behind the curtains at their left. He walks closer to the mattress and notices that, unlike the other two rooms, there’s not a single speck of dust on any surface, nor the bed, neither the nightstand. Not even on the floor. It gives the room a rather eerie ambience, as if it were completely frozen in time. Which doesn’t mean that he’s scared or anything —despite the uncertainty in his step—, but it makes him wonder if this is Mrs. Mellivor’s room…

It could definitely be, but the picture on the nightstand and the one hanging from the wall above the bed seem to say otherwise. They both feature a brown-haired man with floppy furry ears, alone and smiling at the camera in one, and surrounded by people in the other. Damon approaches the nightstand and picks up the picture, taking a closer look. Whoever he is, the boy assumes this to be his bedroom.

Maybe... her son?

He shakes his head and puts the photo back with a grunt, reminding himself of the task at hand. After confirming that the piggy is not under the bed, he eyes the wardrobe on his right; it’s not a solid piece of furniture, it’s one of those completely embedded into the wall with sliding doors. They’re both closed, so, unless the animal somehow managed to understand how doors work and found a way to open it —and then close it after going inside—, it’s pretty unlikely to be there. But for the sake of leaving no corner unchecked, Damon takes a peek.

There’s nothing remarkable inside, just as he expected. Shirts and trousers are all stacked up on top of a small drawer, together with jackets and coats hanging from the rack, and a few boxes lying on the floor… but no trace of the squealing runaway anywhere, which means Aster must be dealing with it right now. And she could probably use his help. Before he leaves, however, he crouches and leans inside the wardrobe to make sure the piggy isn’t hiding behind the boxes. Rummaging through them, Damon finds some shoes, notebooks, and more portraits, but nothing that catches his attention... except for one little item.

He picks it up and takes a closer look, inspecting every inch of it and wondering if it’s part of some sort of party costume. It’s definitely something he’s never seen regular people wearing before. Some Huntsmen’s combat gear is flashy and comes with these kinds of edgy ornaments so… maybe the man from the pictures was a Huntsman too?

“Damon!” comes Aster’s whisper-shout from the corridor. “Damon, it’s here!”

“Ah, coming!” he calls back, hurrying to put everything in its place.

He looks down one last time to the gaudy cool-looking white mask, hums to himself in appreciation and then puts it exactly where he found it and closes the wardrobe.

Following his friend’s voice to the last room on the left, he finds her next to a king-sized bed, cornering the piglet against one corner. The animal has its butt against the wall, darting its eyes between them and breathing fast in obvious fear. The brunette is kneeling down in front of it, moving a hand gently towards its snout.

“What are you doing?” Damon asks from behind her.

“Trying to end this peacefully,” she mutters, just before the piggy grunts angrily and tries to run away from the side, but fails as Aster quickly jolts up and cuts its escape route, “but it’s not working… It just won’t let me touch it.”

“We’ve done nothing but chasing it around all time, I don’t think it’s gonna trust us that easily…” he sighs, giving her friend a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

Aster frowns, shaking her head dejectedly. “Then we have no choice. We can’t just leave it here or wait until it calms down, we need to get out _now_ ,” she concludes, glancing at him while clenching her fists. “Come on, help me.”

“This isn’t going to end well…” he complains with a grimace, but stands next to her to corner the little animal anyway.

“Just like before. Jump at it when I give the signal, then I’ll catch it when it tries to run away,” she says, lowering her stance and getting ready.

He does the same. “Okay.”

If it didn’t work before when they were three, what are the chances it works out now that they’re two?

“Aaand… now!”

In a rerun of their first try in the fields, Damon jumps at the piggy with his arms outstretched... and obviously turns out the same, with him grabbing nothing but air as the piglet bursts off in the opposite direction, into the brunette. Unlike him, Aster seems to be ready for this as she immediately shuts the gap between her legs, causing the boar to crash into her and bounce backwards in a daze.

“You’re mine!” she exclaims victoriously, snaking her arms around the little fur ball.

They knew that trying to catch the piglet by force could result in a big ruckus, but they didn’t consider that the moment they managed to get a hold of it, it would start squeaking and whining like there was no tomorrow. They both jump in surprise by the piggy’s tantrum, but thankfully Aster manages to hold onto it despite all the thrashing, securing it under one of her arms.

“Quiet! Please, quiet!” she pleads, rocking the pig back and forth like a baby.

Damon crouches next to her, trying to calm it down by petting its head. “It’s okay, it’s okay! We’re here to save you!”

But there’s no stopping the piglet’s loud bawling, which of course can only lead to one logical conclusion.

“Who’s there?!” it’s distant and muffled, but they clearly hear Mrs. Mellivor’s voice coming from the first floor, and it makes them both freeze up on the spot.

“She’s coming, she’s coming! What do we do?!” Damon breaks down, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. “She’s coming and we have no way to get out!”

Aster bites her lips and glances around frantically, seemingly unaffected by the piggy’s constant movement, then she runs to the corridor in search of a way out. But there’s no other way to go to the first floor except for the stairs; Aster must be as aware of that as he is. Damon quickly follows his friend and notices her standing there in the middle of the hall, eyes fixated on the window at the end, and the green landscape rained by sunset from beyond.

“Aster? We’re sort of in a hurry, you kn—,” he stops mid-sentence, watching a spark of desperate resolve shining in the shepherd’s rouge eyes. His own eyes widen, glancing between the girl and the window. “Y-You can’t be serious…” he stutters, getting completely white.

The girl turns to him with furrowed brows. “It’s the only way.”

  


* * *

  


This is bad, this is really bad.

All that squealing was loud enough for even Phoebe to hear, so of course the old hag got immediately alarmed, leaving the kitchen in a hurry —or at least what could be considered ‘a hurry’ for someone that old— to find the source of the noise; the girl can only hope she’s not calling the police or something. The sound came from the second floor, so either the piggy is alone up there… or Damon and Aster are together with it and they’re completely trapped.

Phoebe paces around even faster, making a groove in the grass as she comes and goes, unable to take her eyes off the house. She _could_ go and ring the hell out of that bell to try and create a distraction, although something tells her the woman would just ignore it and go straight for the intruders... It’s a gamble, but she can’t think of anything else.

However, the moment she tries to jump over the fence and run to the entrance, she hears a window opening above her and stops in her tracks. A mop of brunette hair peeks out from the inside, and Phoebe immediately makes a wry face, fearing the worst. A second later, Aster is completely out of the window —holding the struggling piglet under her arm— and standing on a small shelf occupied by flowerpots, almost seventeen feet away from the ground.

“Aster, what are you doing?!” Phoebe gasps, biting her lip nervously.

The shepherd puts her back against the building, trying to get as far away from the edge as possible. She looks down to Phoebe and shakes her head, “We had no other choice, she’s coming!”

Phoebe grimaces. “Wait, don’t tell me—,”

A second later, her twin slowly follows Aster out into the open, his body trembling in fear as she helps him close the window again. He then immediately makes himself flat against the wall with his eyes tightly closed. Phoebe starts hyperventilating and freaking out. This is no longer just a stupid rescue mission! This is serious, this is _dangerous_!

“Damon! Damon, get back in! This is not a game anymore!” she shouts desperately, running up to the spot right beneath them.

“We can’t, she’ll find us!” he exclaims, still not opening his eyes.

“And how do you plan to get down from there, huh?!” she rebukes, glaring at him. She’s angry, but she’s definitely more afraid than he is right now.

“With that!” Aster is the one that answers her with an enthusiastic grin, pointing to the side of the shelf. Next to the window there’s a long downpipe connected to the house’s roof gutter, descending all the way to the ground. Aster shifts the piggy in her arms —which fortunately seems to have calmed down a little bit— and moves slowly to the end of the shelf, testing the metal tube with her free hand. “We just have to slide down, fireman style!”

“Are you… sure?” Damon asks, opening a hesitant eye.

Phoebe shakes her head furiously. “No, no, no! I _don’t_ think that’s a good idea at all!”

“It’s just like sliding down from a tree! Look!”

It takes the brunette a little to find a comfortable position —carrying the piglet and all—, but she slowly puts one foot on one of the small metallic pieces keeping the pipe bolted to the wall. After making sure it withstands her weight, she takes a breath and —holding tightly onto the pipe— puts her other foot on it.

The pipe does not give in, and the three kids all breath in relief at the same time.

“Okay, now you just kind of… wiggle your way down,” the shepherd explains, moving her butt to the sides in a way that Phoebe would find hilarious in any other situation. With each wiggle, she slides down a small distance, slowly closing the gap between her and the ground.

In less than a minute, Aster and the piglet land safely on the ground.

“Oh yeah! Now that’s what I call a breakout!” she chants victoriously, holding the piglet now with both arms and twirling around. Phoebe ignores her completely and focuses her gaze on her twin, who’s currently trying to follow the girl’s example, approaching the shelf’s edge with his chest pressed against the wall.

“Damon, don’t do it, we can take the scolding!” she tries to persuade him while fidgeting nervously with her hands, her heart beating faster and faster the closer he gets to the brink. “I-I’ll go in with you and we’ll deal with her together, okay?”

“Are you serious?!” Aster stands next to her with the piglet in her arms, frowning at the faunus. “After all the trouble we’ve gone through, you’re just gonna let him walk in and surrender?”

“Better than falling from the second floor!” Phoebe snaps at her, gesturing madly at her twin.

“I did it with just one arm and holding this little furball,” she deadpans, before turning serious. “He can do it, it’s not as hard as it looks, trust me.”

Phoebe glares back, baring her fangs. “Easy for you, maybe, but he’s not used to this stuff. He will fall!”

The brunette scowls even deeper, looking at her in disappointment. “Come on, he’s your _brother_! Can’t you have a little more trust in him?! He’s not made of glass!”

“He’s gonna get hur—!”

“Would you just _shut up_?!” Damon suddenly shouts.

Both girls snap out and blink in surprise, turning their attention to the boy. When her eyes fall on her twin, Phoebe gasps. Damon is already hanging on the pipe with his back turned to them, facing the wall. And although the breeze up there keeps tousling his hair, it’s clear that he’s not trembling because he’s chilly…

“Damon, get back on the shelf, _please_!” Phoebe cries in terror, hands clasped in front of her chest.

“No, you can do it, Damon! I know you can! Just do exactly what I did and don’t look down!” Aster encourages him with a determined look in her eyes. Even the piglet in her arms squeals, as if supporting her.

“I’m gonna try…” the boy mumbles, and then starts wiggling in the same manner as the brunette before him. Unlike her, who was more confident and didn’t fully cling to the pipe with her entire body, Damon is latching onto it with both arms and pressing his chest against it in a safer position.

But still… This is bad, this isn’t what Phoebe had in mind when they agreed to rescue the pig; had she known her brother was going to be in this situation, she would’ve turned down the idea in an instant. Both girls hold their breaths as they watch Damon slowly descend the seventeen feet long tube, each second feeling like an eternity.

“That’s it! You’re doing great, Damon! You’re already halfway down, keep it up!” Aster cheers him on, bouncing on the spot.

Phoebe tries to say something, but her heart hammering against her chest and the breath caught up in her throat just won’t let her. However, as her twin approaches the ground feet by feet —reducing the risk of severe harm with each one—, her heart rate evens out and she allows herself to breath once more.

He’s eight feet short of reaching the base when it happens. His overalls get momentarily stuck in one of those metallic things that keep the pipe attached to the wall, causing his grip to fail. Phoebe’s eyes widen and her heart stops —almost as if time had frozen— as she witnesses her twin slip off the pipe and plummet to the ground, crashing on a small patch of flowers within the woman’s garden with a loud thud.

Both girls shout out his name in panic, rushing to his side.

They find him slumped over the flowers, slowly trying to get on his knees. Phoebe is the first to reach him, putting a hand on his back and checking on him from head to toe. “Damon, are you okay?!”

He sluggishly raises his head, revealing his mud-stained cheeks and all the soil covering his front. “I’m… sore all over, but I think… I think I’m okay.”

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Phoebe asks desperately, pressing her hands against him, feeling his arms, his legs, his sides… and making him recoil with that last one, although the small fit of giggles eases her worries.

“N-No,” he chuckles while covering his side, “it doesn’t.”

It seems like the soft soil beneath the flowers cushioned his fall...

“You _dummy_ ,” Phoebe sighs, relief washing over her as she throws her arms around him in a gentle side-hug to keep her dress away from the dirt, “the next time I tell you not to do something, you better listen to me, you hear?”

He hugs her back just as tightly and musters a weak, “Yeah…”

At their side, Aster exhales with the piglet in her arms and gives him an apologetic smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, Damon,” she then bites her lip with downcast eyes when Phoebe gives her a ‘mom look’, letting her know that this is partially her fault. “Sorry if I tried to push you too hard… But, for the record, you were doing _far_ better than me the first time I did something like that. With a little bit more confidence, you would've pulled that off easily.”

“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with a faint blush.

The girl gives him a hearty nod. “Totally!”

“Yeah, well, how about next time we try something a little bit closer to our level, huh?” Phoebe snickers sarcastically, letting go of him and wiping the dirt off his face with her thumb. “Geez… Look at you, you’re a mess.”

He simply shrugs with a nervous laugh. “Old habits die hard…”

"Sorry Damon, but, uh,” she stops, eyeing the window above them with a frightful look, “if you’re okay to stand up, do you guys mind if we leave? She may come out at any second.”

Right… she almost completely forgot what they were doing here.

“Can you stand?” Phoebe asks her twin, grabbing his hands and slowly helping him up.

“Y-Yeah…” he nods, carefully getting on his feet and grimacing at his overalls. All that dirt will take some explaining to do but, fortunately, living in the countryside is in itself a pretty good excuse.

They don’t spare a second to dust his clothes and instead leave the area before Mrs. Mellivor concludes there’s no one hiding in her house and decides to come outside to check… only to find part of her garden completely wasted. Yeah, that’s definitely something they don’t dare to face.

The sun is pretty low already, so when the three reach the middle of the town square, Aster turns to them with a determined expression, carrying the piggy like a baby enveloped in her wooly skirt (turns out she has a regular one underneath).

“Okay guys, I think it’s best if we do this tomorrow,” she suggests, glancing at the sky, “it’s pretty late and I’m not sure how long it will take to find its mom. Besides, I don’t have night vision,” she jests, giving them a teasing look. “So how about… in the fields behind my house at ten?”

Phoebe squints her eyes, looking briefly at Damon and the result of the first part of their plan painted all over his clothes. He didn’t seem to agree with the whole thing at first, so perhaps it’s fair to ask him properly this time. “What do you think, Damon?”

Her twin locks eyes with her for a moment and then lowers his head, deep in thought. “You _promise_ you know your way around?” he then asks their friend in a stern tone.

The brunette nods seriously, dropping the jokes. “I promise.”

After a few seconds, Damon shrugs with a tiny smile, glancing back at Phoebe. “It can’t be worse than invading someone else's home, I guess…”

She smiles back, letting out a chuckle. “That’s enough for me.”

“Yes! You’ll see, I’ll show my awesome tracking and foraging skills!” Aster beams at them, hopping in place before turning around to leave. “See you tomorrow then! Goodnight, team!”

The twins see her off, waving as the girl trots away with the small bundle of fur under her arm. Once she’s gone, Phoebe turns to her brother once more, looking at him from head to toe and chuckling to herself.

“Alright, monkey-boy, let’s try and get you presentable, or Blake won’t let you put a foot in the house,” she says, nudging him on the side and taking his hand to walk out of the square.

He purses his lips in response, holding her hand tightly. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope!”


	17. Ep II: Chapter 4

When Yang first started to take her first steps towards engineering during Combat School —sixteen years ago, no less—, she had no idea the craft would grow to become a part of her life at such a personal level.

Back in those first months, she merely fooled around with fake weapons, disassembling them and getting to know how each tiny little piece plays its part in the weapon’s proper functioning. It took her years to reach the point where she could build and maintain her own personal weapon (something Signal Academy turned into the graduation ceremony for its students, and something her sister achieved even before that point, to Yang’s sisterly pride), but thankfully she didn’t need to master anything beyond that.

Then Adam happened, and she was thrown back onto the wrenches and screwdrivers once more. Mostly because she didn’t want to depend on Ruby to fix her arm anytime she needed it, although she has no doubt her dork of a sister would’ve been more than glad.

Her robot arm was so much more complex compared to her gauntlets —even though General Ironwood sent her all of its blueprints—, that she was forced to do maintenance almost on a daily basis; a little bit of dirt getting inside the joints and making her movements slightly more sluggish could make a big difference in combat (and put her teammates at risk), so she couldn’t settle for anything less than tip-top condition. That routine still holds even now, after she’s officially retired; it would just feel… weird not doing it anymore.

And now, she’s even gonna make a career out of that small part of her life. Seriously, if someone had told her during her Beacon days that by twenty-seven she’d be dropping the Huntress outfit for the mechanic’s apron, she would’ve laughed her ass off. It’s amazing how life can change in so little time but, well… after all she went through, she’s kind of used to it.

“Alright, just a few more…” the blonde mutters to herself, giving the barrel of the rifle its last screw turns.

She’s sitting at one side of the garage —at a safe distance away from their car—, with her tool boxes next to her and their contents scattered all over the place. The garage door is completely open, allowing the fresh morning air to enter and wash the smell of sweat away, while also giving her precious natural light, even if she’s using a fluorescent lamp to illuminate her workplace; she’s not Bob, she doesn’t enjoy being a grouchy hermit working in a dark cave, she needs that nice vitamin D for her pretty skin.

“That’s it. Now let's hear you sing, baby,” Yang finally puts the tool aside, taking a moment to clean her oil-stained hands with the apron, before picking up the weapon. Holding her breath, she aims the unloaded rifle at her surroundings, evaluating its balance and testing the bolt by cocking it a few times to make sure the movement is fluid, and that the piece doesn’t get stuck like it did at first. It doesn’t. “Damn, it should be illegal to be _this_ good,” she guffaws, admiring her work.

She effortlessly twirls the weapon in her hand and leaves it leaning against the small wooden counter, next to its also restored sibling, before stretching her good arm and sitting back with her eyes closed. It has taken her just a little less than two hours to get the weapons fixed, which makes her feel a little bit ashamed for not taking care of it sooner, since this is kind of like her trial to become Bob’s partner. But, between hanging out with the twins in the mornings and spending some much needed quality time with Blake when the kids were out, it was hard finding a moment to get started. Which of course doesn’t mean she regrets any of it. It’s exactly what she signed for, and it feels just as good as she imagined; spending a beautiful Saturday morning stuck in the garage while tinkering with some boring-ass weapons isn’t that big of a price to pay for it.

All she needs to do now is take the rifles back to Bob —probably Monday, before they start packing things up for the festival—, get his okay for the business plan and then start with the real work.

Suddenly, she feels a slender and delicate finger pressed against the back of her head. “You’re lowering your guard already? My, my…” a coy voice whispers next to her ear. “If you’re like this after just a few days, maybe I’ll have to save your butt the next time an Ursa tries to sneak up on you, _again_.”

Yang chuckles without making the slightest movement, surrendering herself to this perfectly executed ambush; it’s incredible how after all these years of office work, Blake’s still able to close in without her even noticing. “I think you have memory gaps, kitty. If I remember correctly, you didn’t _really_ save anything. I could’ve taken him,” she declares stubbornly, still not opening her eyes.

No matter how many times Blake tries to tease her with the details of their first meeting all those years ago, it was nothing more than a stolen kill, and nothing she says will change Yang’s mind.

“If you say so…” her wife lets out a melodic giggle, her voice getting closer as she gently circles her arms around Yang’s neck and rests her head on her shoulder; Yang slowly opens her eyes and notices her ebony locks at the edge of her vision. “How’s it going? Too much work?” she asks, nuzzling her cheek against Yang’s neck.

“Nope, I just finished,” Yang admits proudly.

“Already?” Blake gasps, faking surprise.

“Yeah, it’s just like doing maintenance of your own weapon,” she explains, noticing how the faunus suddenly starts planting soft kisses across her neck very slowly, but choosing to make no mention of it, “once you’ve disassembled everything, it’s just a matter of going piece by piece a-and…” she holds back a small moan, “and see what’s damaged or dirty.”

Her wife hums in apparent understanding, but it’s clear she’s more interested in exploring the contours of Yang’s jawline all the way up to her ears, rather than in hearing the boring technicalities of her work.

“Tightening some screws, o-o-oiling joints… you know the drill,” Yang pants, biting her lips, but once her wife dips completely into her throat, she starts giggling, unable to ignore her ministrations anymore. “Hey, hey! A little frisky this morning, aren’t we?” she playfully asks, turning her head to face the woman. “Had I known the mechanic look would have this effect, I would’ve dropped the combat outfit much sooner…”

Blake can’t contain a chuckle —her warm breath tickling the skin of her neck—, and pulls away enough for Yang to gaze directly into her golden eyes. The faunus doesn’t say anything, however, and instead closes in to steal a kiss directly from her, something that Yang allows more than gladly, turning around and returning it with just as much passion. It’s not unusual for them to be all over each other for a few days after being apart due to Yang’s assignments and Blake’s chaotic schedules, but with the kids moving in permanently their privacy has been… _cut down_ , to say the least.

Still, as long as they’re able to have some time for themselves every now and then, it should be fi—

“Good morniiiing!” they hear Phoebe’s voice coming from the kitchen.

Both women jump back in shock, disentangling from each other in a hurry and fixing their clothes, when the face of their resident little imp suddenly appears peeking from behind the door connecting the garage to the rest of the house.

“Oh, there you are! I thought you both left or something,” the girl says enthusiastically, standing proudly by the threshold while wearing her new pajamas. “Good morning!”

“A-Ah, good morning, Phoebe!” Blake responds with flushed cheeks and perked up ears.

“Good morning, kiddo,” Yang follows, slumping back on the chair and trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

It’s sad to think that, in the few days they’ve been here, this isn’t the first time the twins have nearly walked on them getting all lovey-dovey. And it’s even sadder to think that it _won’t_ be the last. But… well, at least they’re skipping on the whole ‘get up at midnight to calm the crying babies’, so that’s a plus.

“Are those the weapons you got from the old man? You’ve fixed them?” Phoebe asks, trotting up to them with a curious look and standing on her tiptoes to try and get a peek behind them. “Can I see them?”

“No, no you can’t,” Yang chuckles sarcastically, flicking the girl’s forehead with a finger and making her stumble backwards. She pouts in response and glares at her, which only makes Yang’s smirk grow wider. "Why are you even up already? It’s Saturday."

“We’re hanging out with Aster again in an hour. We have a secret mission today,” the girl mutters under her breath while caressing her forehead.

“ _Another_? Wow, you guys really are committed. We could've used Huntsmen like you back in the day,” Blake jokes, amused. "What's this one about? More evil robots?"

“If I could tell you, it wouldn’t be so secret,” Phoebe rebukes, grinning smugly at the woman.

“That’s true,” Yang points out.

Blake laughs and gives the girl a small pat on the back. "Well, you can't go on a mission with an empty stomach. Let's get you breakfast, eh?"

“Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve come to love that word!” the little imp snickers merrily, scampering out of the garage, followed closely by Blake, who stops a moment by the threshold to look back at Yang.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks. Just give me five minutes to clear this mess,” Yang answers with a sigh, running a hand through her locks and glancing around the tools scattered across the floor.

Her wife seems to immediately catch on to her thoughts, grinning in a very feline way. “Maybe you can tell me more about screws and oils later...” then she feels the need to add, “while the kids go on their secret mission.”

Yang immediately perks up and glances back at Blake, and although the faunus is already gone, the blonde can’t help the silly grin that tugs at her lips as she starts cleaning everything up, now far, _far_ more cheerful. For all of her boldness and confidence, it’s incredible how she can turn into jelly with just a few words from her wife.

Not like that’s a bad thing, though. It definitely has its benefits...

Once she’s finally done packing all of her equipment, Yang takes off her dirty apron and heads to the kitchen, where Phoebe is munching on some of the last cookies with a glass of milk next to her and Blake is casually leaning against the counter with a glass of juice in her hands, facing the girl. The sound of the coffee machine fills the room, accompanied by the chatter between them, but as soon as she enters the room she notices one sound missing, Damon’s voice. Every single morning since the kids arrived (except the day they adopted them, when Yang and Phoebe went together to Mistral), the two of them have always woken up and had breakfast together, so this feels somewhat out of place.

“Where’s your brother? Still sleeping?” Yang asks the girl while leaning against the counter next to her wife.

“Nope, we got up at the same time, but he had to go to the bathroom,” Phoebe shrugs nonchalantly before taking another cookie from the tray and dipping it in the milk. “He was pretty desperate to go in before me, so I had to pee downstairs,” she purses her lips, pointing at the bathroom next to the kitchen.

Blake laughs awkwardly and takes a sip from her juice. “When there is need, there is need…”

The coffee machine finishes with a beep, and Yang takes the small fuming cup and sits down in front of Phoebe, taking a moment to enjoy the smell of her drink. She already had a small bowl of cereal for breakfast, but after dismantling and reassembling two rifles in less than two hours just after waking up, her body really needs the sweet caffeine boost to start the day.

“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff, it’s the worst thing I’ve tasted in my life,” Phoebe comments with a grimace, eyeing the coffee like its very existence was an offense to her.

Yang raises the cup to her lips and glances at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve tried coffee before?”

“Just once. We stayed at a hotel a few months ago that had a vending machine at the entrance and, well… The buttons had all these images on them instead of words, and we... kinda thought the brown drink button was for hot chocolate…” she mumbles with reddened cheeks. 

“T-That… That sounds... horrible,” Yang stutters, choking on her coffee while trying —and failing— to stifle a chuckle.

“Are you laughing?!” the girl snaps, slamming a hand on the table and getting more and more red.

“N-No, it’s… No, of course not…”

“We almost threw up! And we had that disgusting taste in our mouths the whole day!”

Blake bends over, giggling into her hand and drawing Phoebe’s flushed glare at her. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… so cute...”

This causes Yang to burst out laughing as well, unable to hold back anymore. Phoebe simply puffs out her cheeks like an angry chipmunk —her face completely cherry red—, gulps down the entire glass of milk, picks up two more cookies from the tray and then jumps down from the chair. “I’m gonna get dressed!” she yells with her lips pursed, walking to the door.

“Oh, come on, Phoebe! Don’t get mad!” Yang exclaims in a teasing tone, head propped on one hand and grinning from ear to ear. The girl simply growls in pure indignity.

All of a sudden —and before Phoebe leaves the kitchen—, they hear strange tapping noises coming from the living room. A second later, Damon appears —still wearing his pajamas— hopping on one foot and balancing himself with his arms. He slowly skips his way into the kitchen like it’s the most usual thing to do and stands at the center with his arms outstretched and trying not to fall.

“Good morning!” he sings, beaming at them.

Yang remains in the same position, glancing between the twins with a big dorky smile. These kids are simply too much... 

“Good morning, Damon,” Blake greets, looking equally amused.

“Morning, kid! Let me guess, the floor is lava?” Yang inquires with a lopsided grin, gesturing at his leg.

He shakes his head while bouncing in place. “Nope, I’m a rabbit faunus!”

“Huh, so… with rabbit legs? Are those a thing for real?” she wonders, unconsciously looking at Blake for confirmation.

“I’ve never seen one, but who knows?” the faunus shrugs, making a funny expression. “If there are fish faunus, there can be literally anything.”

“But rabbits don’t hop on one leg, brainiac,” Phoebe remarks sharply while taking a bite from her cookie, looking at her twin tremble while trying to maintain his balance.

“That’s because, uh… Because I’m a rabbit faunus… on a pogo stick?” the boy chuckles awkwardly, quickly bouncing around his sister and closer to Blake, using the same leg all the time. “Is that orange juice? Is there any left?”

Phoebe merely rolls her eyes and keeps nibbling on her cookie, leaning against the wall, but Yang unconsciously squints her eyes at him. It’s clearly just some children's hijinks, but there’s a strange nagging feeling at the back of her mind that makes her grow suspicious. 

Perhaps...

“Yup, I squeezed a few this morning in case you wanted some,” Blake nods, finishing her own glass and putting it on the counter. “The pitcher’s in the fridge, I’ll get you a glass.”

“Great, thanks!”

Damon then hops his way across the kitchen to the fridge, waving his arms in an endearing manner a couple of times to avoid falling flat on his face; Yang keeps her eyes on him the entire time while sipping from her coffee, but doesn’t say anything. Still standing shakily on one foot, the boy opens the fridge and tries to grab the jug filled with juice from one of the middle shelves, and that’s when she draws the line.

“No hopping around with the pitcher, Damon. You could break it and hurt yourself,” she softly warns him.

He looks back at her with a nervous expression and shakes his head, reaching inside the fridge again. “I-It’s okay, Yang. I’m not gonna break it, I’ll be careful.”

“It’s still dangerous, so don’t.”

“Yang is right, Damon. You can keep playing rabbit faunus after breakfast, okay?” Blake adds in an understanding tone while picking up a glass from the cabinet, suddenly aware of what he’s trying to do.

Yet once again, the kid nervously tries to grab the jug. “Seriously, d-don’t worry, I can manage.”

“ _Damon_ ,” Yang snaps, the smile fading from her face and causing him to freeze, eyes darting between the two grown-ups in clear panic and pretty much confirming her thoughts. She leaves the cup on the table and turns to face him with a serious expression. “Close the fridge and put the foot down.”

The boy hesitates for a second, eyes lowered and biting his lip. Then, realizing there’s no way out of this, he finally closes the fridge and slowly lowers his right foot. The moment he puts some weight on it, Damon hisses in pain and drops on his knees. 

“Damon!” Phoebe exclaims worriedly, running to her brother’s side and helping him up, only to frown when he keeps standing on his left foot. “You’re hurt? Why didn’t you tell me anything?!”

“Y-Yesterday it didn’t hurt this much!” he blurts in self-defense.

“I mean this morning, you dummy!”

“I… I didn’t want to make you worry…”

Yang stands up in a hurry and rushes to him as well; this is kind of what she expected... Yesterday he came home completely covered in dirt, saying that he had tripped while playing with Phoebe and Aster, so they simply told him to be more careful and didn’t think too much of it, but it seems the fall was more serious than they thought.

“Let me see,” the blonde says in a calming tone.

Crouching down next to the twins, she uses her mechanical hand to gently lift the right leg of Damon’s pajamas… and instantly grimaces, while Phoebe —who’s helping keep him steady— hisses just by looking at it. His ankle is swollen, and all the skin around has turned a reddish purple; it’s a pretty common injury she saw plenty of times on soldiers and other non-Aura users during the Vesper March.

“What is it?” Blake asks in concern, peeking over her shoulder.

Yang takes his foot on her good hand and slightly tries to turn it to one side, very gently, as well as feeling with her palm around the area to assess the damage. Damon whines, shutting his eyes and balling his hands.

“He sprained his ankle,” she tells her wife, softly putting Damon’s foot back on the floor. “It’s not too serious, but you’re not gonna be able to walk properly for a couple of weeks.” 

“Oh…” he whispers, crestfallen and glancing at Phoebe, “but… can I go out?”

Of course he’d only be worried about that... It makes sense that he tried to hide it. When Yang was a kid, she too tried to belittle every single illness she had in order to not get stuck at home, unless it made her skip a few days of class, of course.

“I don’t think so... Not for now at least,” Yang says sympathetically, shaking her head. “It needs rest to heal, and the last thing we want is you tripping again and making it worse.”

“But… the mission…”

“Don’t worry, bro. Aster and I will take care of that in a whiff and then come to keep you company, okay? We can play something at home,” Phoebe cheers him, squeezing his shoulder with a determined expression.

Damon locks eyes with her and they share a short non-verbal exchange. It seems like he wants to protest further, but in the end he only manages a low, “Okay…”

Blake crouches next to them, looking briefly at the boy’s injury before turning to Yang with a tiny smile. “Didn’t you bring your old game machine with you from Menagerie? It must be buried somewhere in the storeroom.”

Blake Belladonna suggesting video games? That’s new… but not unwelcome.

“Ohh, you’re right! How does that sound, kids? You’ve ever tried video games?” she asks eagerly. The twins shake heads at the same time. 

“Nope, Mrs. Darling never let us have one,” Phoebe answers, arching an eyebrow. “She always said they rot your brain.”

“I’m not too fond of them either, but given the circumstances…” Blake sighs while crossing her arms.

“It’s settled then,” Yang says, carefully picking up the boy and carrying him in her arms while walking to the corridor at the side of the kitchen, leading to the first floor’s bathroom. “But first we need to take care of that ankle.”

Damon shily latches onto her neck and looks down at his foot, frowning. “Are we... going to the doctor?”

She chuckles, noticing the tinge of terror in his voice; oh, those dreadful visits to the doctor... “Don’t worry, kiddo. I can patch you up myself. Despite what most people think, Huntsmen aren’t just cool monster-slaying machines. We’re also taught actual useful stuff to help people wherever we can.”

“Huntress, medic, engineer... you got it all, honey,” Blake snickers, smiling at her teasingly from the center of the kitchen.

“I know, right? My next goal is to become a business shark and take over the SDC. That’ll show the Ice Queen,” she jokes, glancing back at her and wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don’t think Weiss would have any objection, she’d probably appreciate the free time. I know I would,” her wife retorts amusedly. “Anyway, want me to help?”

“Nah, it’s okay, I got this. But put some ice in a bag, that’ll help!” Yang calls as they arrive at the bathroom.

“Alright!”

After Blake goes back into the kitchen, Phoebe —who’s been quietly following Yang— stands in front of them, hands on her waist and with a serious look in her eyes. “I’ll go get ready, the sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back with reinforcements.”

Gosh, they’re just like Ruby… She loves it.

“We’ll be waiting for your return, General Belladonna,” the blonde responds, straightening her back and grinning at the girl.

“Yes, sir… uh, ma’am!” she exclaims, before getting closer and outstretching a fist towards her twin. “Get some rest, soldier. I’ll take care of everything.”

Yang bends down a little bit and Damon gives Phoebe a fist bump, smiling dejectedly. “Good luck, General…”

The girl beams at him one last time, giving his hand a quick squeeze, then turns around and shoots off. She’s known Phoebe for only a week now, but somehow she can picture the girl running to the Talanta’s house, grabbing Aster and dragging her all the way back in a hurry, just to be reunited as soon as possible. Damon might be a bit more delicate, but if their roles were switched he’d probably do the same. 

It reminds her of her own relationship with Ruby, yet at the same time it seems to go even deeper. She and her sister have been through things that bonded them together forever, but with Phoebe and Damon it’s like they _physically_ depend on the other’s very existence to breath… although that could be attributed to their own tragic experience together. Or perhaps it’s because she and Ruby are not twins, so she can’t quite understand how strongly they feel about each other?

Another set of twins comes to mind, but she quickly dismisses that thought. It’s so different from what these kids have that it’s not even worth comparing… And also because thinking about that particular topic never fails to put her in a bad mood.

Looking down at the boy in her arms, she notices him staring at his swollen ankle with a worried expression, so she gives him a little wiggle to get him to look at her. “Hey, don’t worry about a thing. Nurse Yang is gonna make the pain go away,” she declares with a toothy grin. “Besides, in my family we take care of our sick with cookies, milk and cuddles. All the good stuff to speed up the healing!”

His emerald eyes suddenly brighten up, the hint of a smile appearing on his face. “Really?”

“Yup, that’s the Xiao Long style! And look how big and strong I got!” she reassures him, finally seeing the corner of his lips blooming into a full smile. “Now let’s get this poor ankle dressed and wait together for the reinforcements, okay?”

He nods enthusiastically and holds onto her the slightest bit tighter as they enter the bathroom.

Her small talk about oils and screws with Blake is more than called off at this point... But as much as Yang craves for some one-on-one time with her right now, and as much as it annoys her no longer being able to get it whenever they want, Phoebe’s eager and caring attitude as well as Damon’s naivety and charm more than make up for the disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small transition chapter, next one will be the end of this little 'lost piglet' mini-arc. What will be the piggy's fate?


	18. Ep II: Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really made you wait for this one, huh? I'm sorry, but real life issues + long chapter + rewriting certains parts = hell this took forever... And right with the one that makes the 100k+ words milestone!
> 
> I just hope it didn't affect the overall quality of the chapter... Anyway, moving on!

The short trip to Aster’s house feels awfully quiet without her twin.

This is the second time she’s parted ways with Damon since they arrived at Himawari, and even though it’s not nearly as bad as the first one (due to all of their drama), Phoebe still feels weird. Back at the orphanage, they never were the ‘joined at the hip’ kind of twins, even though they obviously spent much of their time together. But now, after surviving together for so long, every time she has to go anywhere without him she feels kind of… defenseless.

For a second, she wonders if Damon feels the same, and then her mind meanders back to last night. Would he have fallen from the pipe if she’d been the one to accompany him inside the house? Perhaps if she’d been there holding his hand while climbing down together he wouldn’t have been hurt… But she quickly shakes her head, turning those thoughts away. Damon would call her silly for feeling responsible for what happened. Besides, she offered to endure the old woman’s scolding with him. She gave him an alternative. She tried her best to keep him safe and find a way out, together, as they always have.

She’s not responsible for what happened, no matter how much her overprotectiveness tells her otherwise.

As she ponders over that, Phoebe arrives at the fields behind the Talantas’ farm and immediately finds the real culprit behind this whole situation. Aster is running around while chasing the little piglet that has caused them so much trouble in so little time, the girl wearing her red scarf as an improvised hood again, seemingly in the middle of a roleplaying session with the furball. The moment the shepherd notices her arrival, she takes off the scarf, grinning widely.

“Good morning, teammate!” she exclaims, clearly in high spirits.

“Morning,” Phoebe greets less enthusiastically, eyes moving between the brunette and the piggy standing a few feet away. “What are you doing?”

“Combat training! I want her to be ready to help her mom fight off any mean foxes who may try to attack them.”

Phoebe cocks an eyebrow. “ _Her_?”

“Yup, just as I expected. A critter so frisky and obstinate had to be a girl, right? Plus, I checked last night when I got back. Wanna see?!” Aster asks with a toothy grin, lifting the piglet —who no longer squeaks and appears to be rather comfortable in the girl’s arms— and displaying her fluffy underbelly.

“No, no, no, no, it’s okay, I believe you!” Phoebe quickly says, waving her hands dramatically in front of her with a deep grimace. “I just got into the country life a few days ago, Aster. I don’t think I need to see a wild pig’s hoo-hoo just yet.”

“Geez... you city kids are such stuck ups,” Aster rolls her eyes, leaving the piglet on the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, _muffin_ …”

The brunette glares cutely at her for a second, earning a victorious smile from Phoebe, before turning to the piglet once more. “Anyway, let me show you what she’s learned. C’mon, Berry, do the Boarbatusk!” Aster commands, crouching next to the animal and doing a forward roll herself as demonstration, “Nyeh!”

A bunch of grass sticks to her hair, back and butt, but she doesn’t seem to care at all. The piglet, to Phoebe’s utmost surprise, actually imitates her and does a forward roll as well, faring far better than the girl and managing to spin quite a few times like a tiny furry wheel.

“Woah, she actually did it!” Phoebe blurts with her mouth agape.

Aster starts petting the piggy’s head —who squeals earnestly at her reward— and smiles from ear to ear, overjoyed. “See?! And we’ve been training for only two hours! This one’s got Huntress’ blood in her, let me tell ya!” she cackles out loud like a proud parent, before arching an eyebrow and glancing behind Phoebe. “Where’s Terror Twin number 2, by the way? He has to see this too.”

“Well…” the faunus sighs tiredly and then tells her friend about Damon’s injury.

By the end of the explanation, Aster’s smile has disappeared, replaced with a regretful frown. “I knew he’d get bruises from that fall, but I didn’t think it would be that bad…”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before encouraging my brother to do something so dangerous,” Phoebe rebukes at her, hands on her waist and with a tone far meaner than she intended.

Aster looks back, hurt but with a defiant glint in her eyes, returning Phoebe’s scowl. She briefly opens her mouth as if to say something, but ends up swallowing whatever response she may have had. “It’s up to the two of us, I guess,” she says coldly —a shadow of the brightness she had when Phoebe arrived— before picking up the piglet and turning around to gaze at the dense thicket at the edge of the fields. “We better get going before my father comes to graze the cows; it was trouble enough to get up before him to sneak the piggy out of the barn.”

“Yeah, well… Lead the way,” Phoebe shrugs without looking her in the eyes, beckoning her with her hand nonchalantly.

They both leave the fields in complete silence, their obvious disagreement still hanging heavily in the air. It must be Aster’s inherent stubbornness which makes her unable to properly admit her mistake. There’s no way she genuinely believes she was in the right forcing Damon to climb down that pipe. Even if he only got a sprained ankle as a result, Aster had no right to do it. Next time, he may not be so lucky…

But there’s not gonna be a next time. She will make sure of that.

As the two girls delve into the forest, Phoebe finds herself gawking at every little detail. The whole place looks like it has come straight out of a magazine, with trees scattered all around them and into the distance as far as the eye can see; which isn’t much, actually, since the woodland grows so thick it’s impossible to see anything beyond thirty feet. This obviously makes orienting oneself far more difficult, but it doesn’t seem to affect Aster at all, who merely crouches here and there and checks some random trees before resuming the walk. It’s kind of impressive, but Phoebe doesn’t want to admit it out loud.

The dead silence between them —only interrupted by the piglet’s happy squealing— is getting on her nerves, so Phoebe finally musters the will to make some small talk.

“Your mom taught you all that?”

The brunette doesn’t turn around to look at her. “Yeah, it’s all about memorizing visual cues, then you can kinda draw a mental map with all of them. Those trees making a triangle, those trunks growing from the same spot like tangled snakes…” she explains while pointing at them.

Phoebe hums in understanding, not really knowing what else to say, and suddenly they’re back to silence once more. It seems like they’re gonna be stuck with this uncomfortable tension between them, so the only thing she can do is hope it doesn’t take too long to find the piglet’s mom so they can go back home; having Damon around always makes things easier…

Fortunately, nearly five minutes later, a patch of vibrant-looking bushes —different from the rest they’ve seen so far— comes into view. At first sight, there doesn’t seem to be anything relevant about them, but as soon as they get a little bit closer, Phoebe catches the small red berries dangling from most of them. The piglet is the first one to react, squeaking and bouncing in place before rushing to them, leaving the two girls behind.

“This is the spot,” Aster declares, hiding behind a tree trunk while the little furball enjoys her feast, “all that’s left is wait for her mom to come looking for her.”

“I told them we’d be coming back soon, and this could take a long time…” Phoebe argues with a frown, crouching next to her.

“Not like we have a better choice. I’ve never gone past this point. If we go deeper into the forest, we’ll get lost for sure,” the brunette sighs, leaning against the trunk with her arms crossed and sliding down until she’s completely sat on the ground. “You should make yourself comfortable.”

Grumbling her discontent, Phoebe reluctantly sits down next to the girl and starts playing with the grass to distract herself.

She’s not sure how much time passes with no sign of the boar mom, but the wait is unbearable. She shifts on the ground, gets up, walks around, pets the piggy… but as much as they wait, and apart from squirrels, birds and a random rabbit skipping across the bushes, there’s no trace of animal life at all. According to Aster, this is a usual spot for boars to come looking for a quick snack, but that doesn’t mean they’re gonna show up now. The baby is here, so if her mom is on the lookout, there’s a chance she’ll come to them if she catches her baby’s scent… eventually.

To make it worse, the tedious pause doesn’t help Phoebe’s grudge with her friend disappear; the more she thinks about the previous day, the more she gets angry at the brunette for her behaviour. It doesn’t take long before it’s finally too much for her to keep inside.

“You really have nothing more to say about yesterday?” she asks coldly, looking at the shepherd, who’s sitting on some tree roots in front of her while practicing with her slingshot.

Aster sighs, glancing back. “We’re really doing it, huh?” she asks tiredly, receiving a hard glare from the faunus. “Fine... What exactly do you want me to say?”

“Apologize? Admit that you were wrong?” Phoebe blurts, frustrated by her nonchalance.

“I already apologized to Damon. I don’t have to apologize to you for anything,” the girl declares stubbornly, before crossing her arms and adding a bitter, “I stand by all that I said.”

Phoebe stands up from the grass, losing her temper. “You still think it was okay to encourage him to do it?!”

“I gave him the courage he needed. It certainly did him far more good than you constantly telling him he was gonna fail.” 

“Because I knew he would!” she shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “He’d never done it before! What did you expect me to do?!”

“Oh, I don’t know… How about giving him a little trust?!” Aster finally snaps, jumping down from the root and standing defiantly in front of her.

“I trust him,” she declares, returning the glare while holding her head high. Aster is slightly taller than her, but that doesn’t deter Phoebe. “If there’s one person in the world I trust, it’s _him_.”

“Then why do you treat him like he’s incapable of anything?! I hadn’t tried it before either, but I ended up doing it with one arm while carrying _a piglet_ ,” the girl argues, mimicking the action of carrying the animal for emphasis. “It wasn’t as hard as it looked. I wouldn’t have told him to do it if I didn’t think he could.”

“You met him just a couple days ago,” Phoebe rebukes with a grimace. “You don’t know what he can or can’t do.”

Aster shrugs, giving her a disappointed look. “Well… Neither do you, apparently.”

“What?” Phoebe blinks, confused.

“Even before he put one foot on the pipe, you were already convinced he was gonna fall. Like, you didn’t even consider for one second that he might actually be able to do it. And yet, he was easily pulling it off until his clothes got stuck,” she explains, shaking her head with a saddened scowl. “I don’t have any siblings so I can’t really talk, but it must feel awful to have your only sister have so little faith in you.”

Phoebe falls silent all of a sudden, furrowing her brows and lowering her head; that statement hurts her more than she’s willing to show. Her memory of what happened the previous day is clear, but what came through her mind during those terrifying minutes is hazy. The only thing she recalls is the panic she felt while seeing Damon walking along the edge of the window. It’s not like she didn’t believe he could do it... it’s just that she couldn’t focus on anything else besides the thought of seeing him fall. There was no room left for ‘what ifs’ in her mind at that moment; her twin was in danger, and she couldn’t afford that. Surely he knows, right...?

Still, the brunette’s nasty remark has hit a nerve and Phoebe can’t help but get fired up.

“Don’t try to dump it on me, Aster. You _gave him the courage_?” she mocks, clicking her tongue. “Come on, you just wanted to get outta there as soon as possible. Mrs. Mellivor was coming and you didn’t want to get in trouble.”

Aster’s face contorts into one of shock, recoiling due to the accusation while her cheeks get red from anger. “So I just wanted to save my own skin, is it? You really think I’m that selfish?” she asks in a low voice, piercing her with her sharp rouge eyes. “You think I’m such a brat?”

It’s a simple question, but Phoebe finds herself unable to say yes or no, basically because it’s a little bit of both. She has no reason to believe Aster is a selfish person by nature, but she also has no reason to believe she wouldn’t hesitate to put Damon in a dangerous situation —as much as the girl thinks that it wasn’t— in order to avoid facing the storm. They’ve known each other for less than a week, after all...

‘ _I don’t know you_ ’ it’s what she wants to say.

‘ _I don’t trust you_ ’ is also true, but sounds equally bad.

It should be easy to say. She’s never had a hard time making her distrust known to whoever approached them on the street. But in this situation, and even though she’s mad at Aster, she can’t bring herself to say the words. It’d be such a slap in the face, so unnecessarily… cruel. In retrospect, the girl has been nothing short of friendly and welcoming with them, so as much as Phoebe blames her for what happened to her brother, she just can’t say it.

Her hesitant pause seems to be enough for Aster, because she lets out a long sigh, shaking her head in dejected disappointment. “Let’s just get this over with so we can go keep Damon company…” she mumbles motionlessly, turning her back on Phoebe.

No, she can’t afford to let the conversation die here. If they don’t figure things out now, it’s just going to keep building up until one of them explodes.

Taking a deep breath, Phoebe follows after the girl. “Look, Ast—,”

But before she has a chance to explain herself, they both hear something moving in the bushes ahead of them.

  


* * *

  


“ _—previous research conducted by Atlas proved that the continent has the potential to rival, if not best, Vacuo’s Dust mineral wealth._ ”

The camera switches from the reporter and the vast expenses of black forests —with the massive metal structure looming above them— to a pretty white-haired lady speaking in front of a crowd in a big room.

“ _In a recent press conference, President Weiss Schnee set the date for the beginning of their first prospecting operation across the Colonies by the end of spring. These are great news for Remnant as a whole, but especially for the latest settlements established in the region, which will benefit greatly from the four hundred new jobs the company will offer._ ”

The image then switches back to the old anchorman in the studio.

“ _Thank you, Chenille. In other news, Vacuan citizens continue to gather and protest at the doors of Shade Academy after bandit activity across the kingdom reached an all-time high nearly a month ago. Official reports speak of dozens of settlements being raided every week with little support from Vacuo’s highest authority._ ”

The camera changes again, this time to a group of people shouting and holding banners in front of an awesome-looking building that appears to be carved into the face of a mountain. A line of armed warriors seems to be the only thing keeping the furious crowd from breaking in.

“ _Headmistress Shackfall is yet to appear in public and make an official statement regarding the current situation, a silence that has only aggravated the already tense atmosphere among the affected settlement dwellers. Several Vacuan Huntsmen teams have publicly spoken in the Headmistress’ defense, claiming that Shackfall is working overtime to try to find a solution for the citizens, while at the same time ensuring that Huntsmen are paid for their work. Renowned Huntress and war veteran Nebula Violette, from team NDGO, recently gave her opinion to the media._ ”

A lady with stylish purple hair appears on screen, talking to a reporter.

>>“ _People need to understand that these are difficult times… Most of the professional teams registered on Shade haven’t had a job in the last eight months. They’re people with families trying to make a living like everyone else, and the vast majority can’t afford to jump into battle and risk their lives when there is no payment._ "

>>“ _But team NDGO is currently assisting in the protection of settlements, right? Are you getting paid for your work?_ ”

>>“ _Not at the moment, no. My teammates and I have agreed to do volunteer work, along with a few other teams that can manage the economic loss, until a proper solution is found. This was Professor Shackfall’s initiative, and something that has saved many villages and settlements in the past few weeks. But most people aren't even aware of it and continue to criticize her! She’s doing everything in her power to help, and she’s doing it at the expense of her own well-being and mental health._ ”

>>“ _Well, let’s hope this reaches as many people as possible and word spreads out. That being said, you can’t work for free indefinitely. What will happen when you and your comrades find yourselves in the same predicament as the rest of the Huntsmen community?_ ”

>>“ _I’m confident it will not come to that. Vacuo had it way worse in the past, and we’ve always persevered. We’ll get through this, and we’ll come up stronger, as always._ ”

The image suddenly switches once more, this time focusing on a dark-haired woman with fancy jewelry and freaky eye make-up speaking in public, with camera flashes going off all around her and an entourage of soldiers in golden armor standing behind her. The anchorman continues his monologue in a voice-over as the scene plays out.

“ _Vacuo’s current state has caused all kinds of personalities across the desertic kingdom to raise their voices. The most surprising is undoubtedly faunus activist and former Vacuan royalty Phara Nilus, who —for the first time in years— has opened the gates of Ziggurat to talk to the press. The hermetic ruler of the ancient fortress-city has shown her support to Headmistress Shackfall and Shade Academy, encouraging the citizens to remain strong and not give up hope, while at the same time offering her own city as a safe haven for all those who wish to escape from the bandits._ ”

A massive caravan of people carrying bags and tents is shown walking through the humongous doors of the giant walled city.

“ _Ziggurat became independent from Vacuo when the Nilus family was dethroned at the end of the Great War, when all four kingdoms abandoned their old political systems, and for the past century, the relationship with its mother kingdom has been cordial, albeit minimal. Fellow Shade supporters are now looking with suspicion at this sudden involvement by the former royal family, claiming that Phara’s actions are nothing more than a political pl—_ ”

“Vacuo is a total mess these days...” a voice says behind him. “Since when are kids interested in the news, anyway?”

Damon turns around on the couch —careful not to move his foot, already covered in bandages and resting comfortably on a pillow— and glances at Yang as she descends the staircase with a dusty box in her arms. Although barely visible, he can read ‘GameStation VIII’ printed on one side; a rather old model, considering the ads announcing version X he saw plenty of times on TV back at the orphanage. Not like he cares, of course. She could suggest playing with a yo-yo and he’d still be totally on-board.

“I was waiting for the cartoons. They’re supposed to start after this,” he explains with a pout, looking back at the TV. They’re still showing the mass of travelers walking across the desert to reach the city walls. “Are there really bandits attacking villages? Is that why those people are leaving their homes?”

After putting the box on the table, Yang goes and sits down next to him, scowling at the screen. “Yeah, they want to protect their families, even if it means leaving their old homes behind... All because a bunch of thieves think they can take anything they want just because they can,” there’s a sad tinge in her voice, but Damon assumes that —since she was a Huntress— she must’ve dealt with bandits in the past.

“They’re the worst,” he claims, brows furrowed in disapproval.

A tiny chuckle escapes the blonde’s lips, before she turns to him and playfully ruffles his hair with her good hand. “They really are.”

He smiles in return, before his eyes go back to the screen and something suddenly tugs at his mind, making him frown again. “Before you adopted us, Blake’s friend told her that a family from Vacuo wanted to take us in… Do you think they’re okay?” he asks, glancing briefly at her.

She takes a moment to think, then responds with a warm smile, “Well, according to Blake the father works at the FIS, so it’s safe to assume he and his family live in the capital. Don’t worry, no bandits would ever be able to attack a big city like that.”

“Good,” Damon nods, a little bit relieved. He doesn’t know anything about them, but it’d make him sad knowing someone kind enough to adopt two kids from the other side of the world was suffering from bandit attacks.

Yang spends the next few minutes dealing with the mess of cables inside the box, disentangling them and setting the small console on the floor under the TV, all the while Damon entertains himself looking through the various games she has; he concludes that she must really enjoy fighting games. At that moment, Blake enters the living room —still wearing her night blouse— and leans against the table while talking to her scroll.

“Got your passports?” she asks with furrowed brows while drumming her fingers on the table.

“Yes, we had them ready since last night,” a woman’s voice answers from the other end of the line.

Damon can’t help but turn around and pay attention to the exchange, figuring Blake is talking to her parents, who will be dining with them and the Talantas tonight. She said they still lived in Menagerie, where she and Yang lived before moving in to Mistral, so that’s a pretty long trip just for a family dinner, all things considered.

“Have you checked in your luggage?”

“Yes, your father is on it right now,” her mom chuckles, amused.

“How about—?”

“Honey,” she warmly interrupts her, “we were travelling through Remnant long before you were born. I think we can make it to Mistral in one piece.”

Blake rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a tired grin. “I know, I know... Sorry, I can’t help it.”

The woman lets out an elegant giggle. “You don’t have to tell me… You’re just as thorough as your father. Oh, speaking of the devil, there he is. Ghira!”

Just a couple of seconds later, another voice comes through the scroll, and Damon has to admit that it’s the deepest and manliest voice he’s heard in his entire life. “Kali... I told you to wait for me before calling. Good morning, dear! How are you?”

“Good morning, dad, I’m good. I was just calling to see if everything was okay,” Blake replies, sitting comfortably on the table. By that point, Yang —after finishing preparations for the games— gets up and joins her wife’s side, who makes room so she too can be seen on the screen. “Yang’s here.”

“Morning, guys!” she greets cheerfully, sliding an arm over Blake’s shoulders.

“Hello, dear, it’s nice to see you,” Blake’s mom says amicably.

Her dad lets out a hearty laugh. “There’s my other daughter! You look great as always, Yang. And those scars look far better than last time.”

That last observation makes Damon hiss to himself. It’s the first time he hears someone besides Blake or Yang herself mention the burn marks across the blonde’s body. She was the one to bring up the subject during their first dinner, so it’s clear she’s pretty cool with it, but it’s still awkward hearing someone else mentioning it. 

Yang clearly doesn’t mind at all, as seen by the sincere toothy grin on her face. “Thanks, Ghira.”

“Are you still applying the ointment every day?” Blake’s mom asks in a very, _very_ motherly tone.

“I finished the bottle last month. I think I’m already fine,” Yang answers with a confident shrug.

“We’re bringing you another,” the woman declares merrily. It’s not a question, but a firm and undebatable statement.

It doesn’t stop Yang from trying to debate it, though. “I-It’s okay, Kali… It stopped hurting a long time ago, and it’s—,”

“Oh, no. You’re still two months away from the full healing period the doctor advised,” the woman scolds, not quite as harshly as her own mom, but in a much more polite way. “If you want to go to the beach in Kuo Kuana again this summer, you better take care of your skin. Understood?”

“That’s cheating…”

Damon covers his mouth, trying to contain a small laughing fit; it seems that the couple on the scroll is as much Yang’s family as it is Blake’s, which is super lovely. The latter suppresses a giggle as well, giving her wife a mocking look. “That’s a really serious threat...”

“Fiiine… But only because denying the world of the sight of my tanned figure would be a crime against humanity,” Yang concedes with a lopsided grin while gesturing to her body as a whole.

Blake smirks, rolling her eyes. “Sure it would be...”

The couple from the other end of the line chuckle, clearly used to Yang’s antics, before Blake’s dad takes over again. “By the way, girls. There’s still thirty minutes left before we’re called to embark, so we were wondering…” he mumbles in a meekly manner, a stark contrast from the beastly tone of his voice, “can we talk to them for a bit? We’re dining with them tonight and we don’t even know how they look!”

Blake and Yang instantly perk up and steal a brief glance at Damon from the table. The boy —suddenly on the spot and knowing exactly what he’s being requested— blushes and shrinks, hiding behind the couch and out of sight. If Phoebe was here, maybe they could muster the courage to face the awkwardness together, but there’s absolutely no way he’s facing this by himself!

“Sorry, dad, but they’re playing outside,” Blake apologizes, and Damon breathes in relief not a second after, peaking over the couch again and giving the black-haired faunus a thankful smile. She returns it. “You’ll have to wait until tonight.”

The man groans, disappointed. “Ugh, the suspense is killing me!”

“Literally. He’s already gone seven times to the bathroom,” Blake’s mom playfully adds, making both women laugh.

“Kali!”

“It’s okay, Blake,” she reassures her, ignoring her husband’s embarrassed protests, “I’d prefer our first time seeing them to be in person rather than by scroll. Don’t you think, dear?”

“I guess…” he sighs.

*DING-DONG*

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and the three turn to look at the entrance at the same time. It seems like the mission was a success, and earlier than he expected! Damon smiles giddily while making room on the couch for Phoebe and Aster, gathering all the game cases in a big pile next to him and glancing eagerly at the two women. Yang locks eyes with him, grinning in the same earnest way before walking to the entrance.

“Ah, we have a visit. See you tonight, okay?” Blake quickly says, getting down from the table. “Yang will be there at seven to pick you up.”

“O-Oh, okay. See you later, dear,” her mother replies.

“Already?! Uh, alright… Love you, honey...” her father follows, disheartened.

“Love you too, bye!” Blake exclaims, then finally finishes the call. She notices Damon’s amused and slightly anxious look and gives him a knowing smile. “We dodged a bullet there... My father wouldn’t have let go of you until they called them to embark.”

“Thank you, I… don’t think I was ready for that yet,” he confesses shyly.

“It’s okay,” she whispers soothingly while rubbing his shoulder, then turns to look at her wife with renewed spirit. “Are those our reinforcements, Yang?”

The blonde, who’s looking through the peephole, shakes her head before opening the door. “No.”

Standing on the porch is a short and round man with glasses and curly grayish blonde hair, much older than both Yang and Blake, but not nearly as much as Mrs. Mellivor. Damon recognizes him as the owner of the inn, the one by the town square; they met the kind man briefly the day after they were adopted, when Yang —staying true to her word— took them there with Aster for an afternoon snack. Apparently, apart from being the innkeeper, he’s also a townchief of sorts, a person everyone in Himawari comes to when they need help.

The surprise must show on Yang’s face as she opens the door, because the man furrows his brows and fidgets with his hands together. “Sorry, is it a bad time?”

“N-No, it’s— it’s okay, Clyte. We were just expecting someone else,” Yang explains apologetically, glancing back at her wife, who moves away from the couch to stand next to her by the door. “Do you need something?”

The innkeeper makes a complicated expression, glancing between the two women. “Yes, huh... a favor, actually.”

“Well… Sure, yeah, what can I do for you?” the blonde asks kindly, leaning against the doorframe.

“You see… I normally go to the forest every few days to gather timber for the fireplace. The nights are still sorta cold and the townsfolk really appreciate the warmth while they’re taking a drink, so Hileos and I go and cut down a few small trunks and—,” he explains a little bit too fast, clearly worked up by the subject, before cutting himself short. “Sorry, I’m beating around the bush... The thing is, yesterday we were gathering as usual, when we stumbled upon a dead animal.”

Damon perks up after hearing mention of the forest, dragging himself to the opposite end of the couch, closest to the door. 

“An animal?” Blake inquires with an arched eyebrow. “Like a rabbit or a fox?”

“A boar... A grown boar. And a pretty large one, I must say,” he adds, worry filling his voice.

“Adults have no predators around here… Could have been another boar?” Yang wonders, her face set in serious scowl.

“Absolutely not… The whole thing was—,” the man stops after noticing Damon eavesdropping behind the couch, then steps closer to whisper something to the couple beyond his ear reach.

Whatever he tells them, it makes Blake’s eyes go wide and her ears shoot up. “Here?! It shouldn’t be possible... What are the odds?” she turns to the blonde, looking just as serious as her.

“Low... Very low... But not zero,” Yang replies, rubbing her chin in deep thought. “Could be a stray Beowolf or an Ursa... It’s not the first time I’ve found a lone survivor wandering around aimlessly. They’re like fish out of the water: confused, disoriented and gasping for air.”

Wait... Are they talking about Grimm? In the forest? But that’s where Phoebe and Aster are right now!

“E-Excuse me…” Damon says, trying to get their attention, but they don’t hear him or are too focused on the matter to listen.

“Could it be something bigger?” Blake argues, clearly worried about Yang.

“Excuse me…”

“The forest is too dense for something bigger to move freely…” she reasons with a shake of her head before taking a quick look at the man. “There weren’t any fallen or broken trees around the area, right?”

“No, everything else was normal,” he responds, then presses his hands together as if begging. “Can you find it, Yang? I don’t want to imagine what would happen if it runs into a neighb—,”

“Excuse me!” Damon shouts, and this time he manages to get all three adults to look at him. “Are you saying there are… Grimm in the forest?”

Yang frowns. “Maybe. That’s why we need to take care of this as soon as possible. We’ll have to play later, okay?”

“I-It’s not that. But... Phoebe...”

“What is—?” the look on Damon’s eyes or his nervous fidgeting must give it away, because before she even finishes the sentence, Yang’s face slowly contorts into one of panic. She takes two long strides, coming to stand in front of him before she grabs him tightly by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eyes. “Damon, _where_ did they go?”

  


* * *

  


Phoebe takes a step back, the sound of the small leaves and branches breaking under her feet rising over the sudden silence.

“N-No way…” Aster stammers, following suit and walking backwards slowly.

The massive black creature emerging from the bushes sniffs the air a couple of times with its furry snout before a pair of dark eyes settle on them, glancing between the two. Despite walking on all fours, the beast’s head stands taller than any of the girls, which only makes it more terrifying. Clawed paws as big as her head stomp lazily on the grass as the black bear enters the small clearing, slowly walking in their direction. The piglet squeaks in fear, running away from where they came from, and a part of her wishes the bear decides to chase after it… but it doesn’t.

Why is a bear here? Didn’t Aster say foxes and hawks are the only predators around this forest?!

The pictures in books fall short of the real thing; they look smaller, even pretty and cute, and far more non-threatening. But seeing a beast like this up close... it could easily gobble her up whole if it wanted, or just break her like a twig with the slightest movement. Her breath gets caught in her throat and, with every passing second, moving her limbs becomes a more and more difficult endeavour; she’s getting frozen by fear.

“Aster… What do we do?” Phoebe whispers, not daring to tear her eyes off the animal. She gets no response. “Aster...”

“I… don’t know…” the brunette finally responds with a trembling voice. It seems she’s just as shocked —if not more— to see this animal appearing out of nowhere.

This is bad…

Phoebe stops when her back hits against a tree, and that somehow makes her snap out of her shock and realize the situation they’re in. She darts her eyes around and sees Aster standing a few feet away with her knees shaking and her mouth wide open. They have to do something... Run, hide, anything at all; although she’s not entirely sure they can outrun an animal like that, no matter how big and heavy it is, especially in the forest.

“The trees!” Aster suddenly shouts, glancing back at her with shining hope in her eyes. “If we climb high enough, maybe it won’t follow us!”

“You sure?!” she asks desperately.

The shepherd doesn’t wait to get her approval and turns to the nearest tree. “No! But it’s better than running away! Come on!”

Phoebe doesn’t think twice either and latches onto the tree right behind her, making sure to keep the bear in her line of sight; the animal seems to notice their desperate escape attempt, because it starts walking faster and faster. Due to the distance between the girls, the bear eventually has to turn one direction or another… and it ends up turning to the left, to Aster; perhaps it thinks she’s a little lamb because of her skirt?

“Aster, it’s going after you! Look out!” Phoebe blurts in panic while kicking her legs, trying her best to clamber up the trunk, as ridiculous and pathetic as she’s sure she looks.

Although she’s barely had but a few seconds to react, Aster has already climbed up the tree and reached the first branches by the time the bear arrives. The animal suddenly stands on its rear legs —leaning on the trunk— and starts growling and clawing around, trying to knock the girl off the branch. Its full height is impressive but, luckily, Aster seems to be out of its reach.

“Get away! Get away!” Aster yells in fear, drawing up her knees to get as far away from the bear as possible.

Eventually the beast gets tired of trying and drops down, turning its predatory gaze to the clearly more defenseless prey, the one who keeps struggling to climb but a couple of feet above the ground. Phoebe’s eyes go wide in terror when the massive animal curls its lips back, baring a set of fangs that make hers look like toothpicks...

“Phoebe, hurry up! Quickly!” comes Aster’s distressed scream.

She starts sweating. The bear walks closer and closer and all she can do is claw desperately at the trunk, trying to push herself up... but no matter how much she tries, she barely moves a few inches. Her heart pounds wildly against her chest and she gasps, totally fatigued, as her dwindling strength finally fails her and she falls on her butt, breathing heavily.

“ _Phoebe_!” Aster shrieks again, her voice breaking.

The sunlight disappears as an enormous shadow looms over her. Phoebe looks up —sweat running down her forehead— and can only stare back at the monster as it stands to its full height once again, towering over her; its whole body seems to grow larger than it already was, its fur standing on end and raising its claws, a mere flick away from tearing her apart. And as she looks the beast right in the eyes, her heart stops pounding and her mind goes blank. 

She always believed that at a time like this she’d think about everything she wouldn’t be able to do, all the experiences she wouldn’t get to live… growing up, studying, traveling around Remnant to her heart’s content, maybe falling in love along the way… But the thought that would really torture her to her last breath would be how her twin could carry on without her. However, she finds herself unable to think of anything, unable to feel anything anymore. Fear has stricken her to her core, and she can only wait in silence as her life is taken from her. 

Perhaps not being able to dwell on it is for the best...

…!

But, before the black guillotine falls on her, something small flicks the animal’s ear all of a sudden. The bear growls and shakes its head before turning around, its attention suddenly drawn away from the girl.

“Leave her alone!”

Phoebe is still in shock, but with the overwhelming pressure of the predator’s gaze gone, she manages to start breathing again and takes conscience of her surroundings once more. Looking past the monstrous beast, she notices the brunette girl on the ground —her face completely wet with tears— and picking up a rock from the grass before hurling it against the bear with her slingshot. Her dexterity doesn’t fail her even under these circumstances, and this time the pebble hits the animal right in the muzzle, making it grunt and recoil momentarily, more out of annoyance than any real pain.

“Phoebe, run!” Aster shouts at her before shooting yet another pebble at the angry bear while flaunting her wooly skirt. “Hey! It’s me who you want, you big fat furry jerk!”

Her taunts seem to work out, since the giant animal quickly turns away from the faunus to face the young daredevil again. Aster, as terrified as she is with her shaking knees and quivering lips, stands her ground and throws another rock at the bear, this time not even caring to use her slingshot.

“Come and get me!” she challenges with a defiant howl. The bear complies... and charges at her, clawing at the ground and ripping a bunch of grass on its path.

Why is she doing this? She barely knows her, but she’s going to throw herself to a wild animal to save her? No... she can’t... They still haven’t made peace. They still need to have another argument, to scream at each other again and sort things out once and for all. That’s the only way they’re going to find some common ground and she knows it, because for the short time she’s known the girl, she’s come to realize... that she’s just as pig-headed as her.

Phoebe finds herself unconsciously reaching out with her hand, gathering what little strength she has left and calling the girl’s name on top of her lungs. But Aster vanishes from her vision not a second later, obscured by the beast leaping at her.

It cannot end like this.

It can’t...

…!

Suddenly, everything explodes.

A blast of wind stronger than anything she’s ever felt lifts her a few inches from the ground and makes her land on her back; it happens so fast that her brain is barely able to register it. There’s a huge boom, a sonic blast that makes her ears ring, and then a loud and distant crash, like… branches breaking violently.

After a few seconds, when the tremor finally dies down, she groggily tries to get up on her butt, but her vision is hazy and everything seems to spin around her, so it takes her a few tries to prop herself up. When she does, a wave of heat washes over her, as if someone had placed a stove right in front of her face. Her sight starts to clear, and that’s when she sees her.

A literal goddess standing in the middle of the forest, her hair made of a blazing inferno, shining brighter than the sun. Despite the intense heat radiating from her, neither the bushes nor the trees —nor the small brunette girl sitting on the grass, gawking with her mouth wide open— seem to be affected, as if the fire within her could only harm the target of her fury. It’s not until Phoebe rubs the haziness off her eyes that she recognizes her face.

“Y-Yang?”

The blonde eyes her briefly with glowing crimson orbs —her semblance steely and focused— before facing away again, right ahead of her. Following her gaze, Phoebe notices the bear rising from the ground at least twenty feet away from them, its fur completely messed up and covered with leaves and dirt. It seems to consider its options for a moment, before Yang takes a challenging step forward and the former terrifying monster turns tail like a scared puppy, limping its way into the deep forest.

It takes Phoebe a moment to digest the realization that Yang just punched an eight hundred or so pound animal so hard that she tossed it across the grove like a ball. Her mind is still racing with everything that’s happened in the span of two minutes, and as much as she tries, she’s unable to speak; she’s just petrified. Even when the tiny piglet shows up again, squealing cheerfully and nuzzling against an equally perplexed Aster, somewhat relieving the tension that still floats in the air, she still can’t find the words.

Yang’s hair slowly stops glowing, and when the woman glances at her again, her eyes have gone back to their usual soft shade of lavender. Her expression, however (and this makes Phoebe finally react and shrink in fear more than any murderous animal could), is no less furious than how it was a few seconds ago.

  


* * *

  


If living on the streets for half a year had something good about it, Phoebe would say it was the absolute lack of scoldings. Back at the orphanage those were the order of the day, so spending all that time without anyone yelling and pointing an accusing finger at you felt kinda nice. But it seems this new life of theirs is bent on settling the score and making them endure six months worth of reprimands in their first week…

And, well, to be fair… it’s not like they don’t deserve this one too. Much like the scolding from a few days ago, they’d been initially welcomed with hugs, warmth and words of concern, but once it was clear they weren’t hurt in any way, the parents unleashed their full artillery.

“So you find a stray boar and, instead of telling us, the first thing you think about is taking it back to the forest by yourselves behind our backs? What were you thinking?!” Aster’s mom asks with an incredulous look on her face, glaring at the three crestfallen kids sitting on the couch. Yang is standing next to her with her arms crossed in front of her chest, while Blake and Basil —who’s carrying the little furball— exert their disappointed looks on them from the sidelines.

“I’ve gone with you a hundred times, I—I wasn’t gonna get lost…” Aster mumbles with a little hiccup, not daring to look up. “There never had been bears in the forest! If I had kno—”

“That doesn’t matter. You promised me you’d never go to the forest on your own, remember?” Lily rebukes, interrupting her and raising a finger for emphasis. “ _Aster Talanta_ , look at me when I’m talking to you.”

When she still doesn’t respond, Basil takes a stand behind his wife while still carrying the piglet. “Aster…”

The girl lets out a tiny sob and reluctantly lifts her chin. Her lips start trembling and a few more tears run down her reddened cheeks the moment she looks her mother in the eye. “I-I just— I just wanted t-to show them all the things I can do,” she stutters, looking at the twins from the corner of the eye before quickly glancing away and lowering her voice to a whisper, “I w-wanted them to think I’m cool...”

Listening to her confession feels... awkward. From the moment she met Aster, Phoebe knew there was something off about the overly excited girl, but she chose not to say anything because she actually believed the shepherd was kinda cool (being able to handle an entire herd of sheep on her own, at her age? Come on!). But knowing that she was actively trying to impress them makes her feel slightly regretful about the way she treated her before. Well… that and the fact she didn’t think twice before risking her own life to save hers.

Yeah, there’s no way she’s accusing her of being selfish anymore…

The dark haired woman keeps frowning, but Aster’s heartfelt confession manages to soften her expression the slightest bit. Sighing tiredly, Lily crouches in front of her daughter and gently wipes the tears off her face with the sleeves of her dress. “That still doesn’t make it right. If Yang hadn’t found you when she did, if she had taken just a few seconds longer…” she holds back a sob of her own, running a hand through her hair, “I don’t even want to think about it.”

Aster sniffs and gives a sad nod while clutching her wooly skirt. “I-I know… I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never, _ever_ do it again...”

Lily stares back at her daughter for a few seconds, judging the weight of her words, before finally drawing her in for a hug. Aster wraps her arms around her mom and starts sobbing quietly into her chest.

“And you two…”

Phoebe and Damon perk up, the hair at the back of their heads standing on end, and slowly raise their eyes to stare at an angry-looking Yang; seeing her expression, Phoebe thanks the higher powers for not getting caught in the act by the old woman yesterday, or their current predicament would be far worse...

“You have an entire village, miles of green and peaceful meadows to run, play, explore... to do whatever you want without a worry,” she recounts, her visage getting angrier with each word. “Instead, you break your word and decide to go to the _single place_ we tell you is completely off-limits. Why?”

Phoebe steals a brief glance at her twin, who stares back while biting his lip in remorse. They keep looking helplessly at each other, unable to form any sort of argument that could excuse them from what they’ve done. She thought Damon might get a softer treatment since he’s already hurt and all, and hasn’t actually set a foot in the forest… But he was going to, and would have done so even with a sprained ankle if not for Yang and Blake forbidding him from leaving the house. It only now dawns on her how things might have turned out if he had been with them during the attack...

“Y-Yang,” Aster suddenly speaks, disentangling from her mom to look at the blonde with puffy rouge eyes. “It was my idea. I-I convinced them to come along…” she then glimpses at the twins with a sorrowful expression. “It’s my fault... not theirs.”

Something tugs at Phoebe from the inside, a nasty feeling in her chest that makes her speak out without thinking, locking eyes with her friend. “No… We both agreed to it, knowingly.”

“Yeah… We knew it was wrong, but we agreed anyway,” Damon adds, holding Phoebe’s hand and looking between the two girls and Yang. “W-We’re sorry…”

“ _Why_? Why did you think it was a good idea?” Yang demands while balling her hands into fists, her expression not softening in the slightest.

The boy shrinks under her gaze and starts fretting, the corner of his lips quivering. “W-We… We didn’t think it would be dangerous...”

“The forest is _always_ dangerous!” she roars at them with eyes flaring a bright crimson red, the sudden increase in her tone startling the kids and even the other three grown-ups in the room.

Phoebe is taken aback by the woman’s anger, this being the first time in her life an adult has screamed at them in such a tone; she understands why she’s so angry, but not even Lily has been this outraged at Aster. At her side, Damon lets out a weak whimper and, a second later… he breaks down, the sound of his sobs rising over the awkward silence in the room. She wastes no time in pulling him against her, comfortingly rubbing his back while he cries on her shoulder.

Yang’s eyes go back to their original color as her breathing evens out and, suddenly realizing what she’s done, hides her face behind her hands and steps back, shaking her head. Blake is at her side in an instant with a worried expression, glancing between her wife and Phoebe.

“Yang…” she whispers to her, rubbing her shoulders.

The blonde shakes her head again, managing a muffled, “I-I’m sorry…”

Damon keeps trembling in Phoebe’s arms and mumbling in between sobs, “We won’t do it again… We won’t do it again...”

The girl turns to look at Blake without stopping comforting her brother and nods, fresh tears piling up in the corner of her eyes. “W-We _won’t_.”

Their sincere apology makes Yang remove her hands from her face, revealing her disconsolate expression and watery eyes. She slowly moves away from her wife and comes to stand in front of the twins, before dropping on her knees and silently enveloping them in a hug. Both Phoebe and Damon are caught off-guard but neither try to move away, and instead lean into it, basking in her warmth. It strikes Phoebe that, despite her prior show of power and bravery, right now the woman is trembling just as much as Damon...

She’s a Huntress and a heroine that has gone through every unimaginable nightmare war has to offer, and yet they’ve managed to scare her… and all because of their stupid recklessness.

“I really hope you mean that,” Blake declares quietly, sitting next to them and circling their backs with her arm without joining in the hug. She looks exhausted, the color completely drained from her already fair skin. “A shock like this is enough for a lifetime…”

“Definitely...” Yang agrees a moment later, breaking the hug and rubbing her eyes before glancing at Damon with a miserable expression. “Sorry I yelled at you, I-I shouldn’t have…”

The boy shakes his head, sniffing and wiping his running nose with his forearm. “We should’ve listened to you…”

“ _Yes_ , but still… it wasn’t right. Forgive me?” she asks with a dejected smile.

Damon stares back at her for a few seconds before shyly opening his arms, an offering Yang seems more than glad to accept. Phoebe can’t help but smile in relief, glancing back at Blake and giving her an apologetic look. The woman takes a deep breath —her shoulders finally relaxing— and reaches out with her hand to gently caress the girl’s cheek, her touch allowing Phoebe to release all of her anxiety as well.

This warm forgiveness is certainly more than what the twins deserve...

“I don’t know about you, girls,” Lily suddenly says, standing up and massaging her temples, “but I don’t really feel like having dinner tonight. I’m sorry... I need to— I-I’m just—”

Basil puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder and the woman stops, accepting his comfort and breathing to control her emotions. “I think it would be best to leave the dinner for another day,” the man finishes kindly, looking at Blake and Yang. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, we understand,” Blake nods, standing up as well and running a hand through her hair, her ears flat against her head. “We’re still going to have to dine with my parents though… They’re probably on their way right now.”

“Apologize on our behalf... and tell them next time they come to the village, dinner will be at our home.”

“Thank you, Bas. By the way,” the faunus adds, looking down at the piglet in the man’s arms while arching an eyebrow, “what are you going to do with it?”

Phoebe and Aster immediately turn to Basil, expectantly.

“Well, if the animal Clyte found is indeed her mother, there's no way we’re returning her to the forest; it’d be a death sentence. For now I guess she can stay on the farm,” the man explains, gently petting the baby’s head, and causing the kids to breathe in relief. “Besides, she led Yang to the girls. I think she’s earned it.”

“That sounds fair,” Yang says, wiping one last tear off Damon’s face and getting up to stand next to her wife.

It’s amazing that they owe their lives to the tiny and troublesome piggy, after everything she made them go through. But Phoebe supposes it must’ve been her way to return the favor. After all, this whole mess began because the kids refused to let the poor baby on her own.

“Alright, come on, Aster,” Lily beckons her daughter.

“Don’t tell grandma about this, please,” the girl pleads, jumping down from the couch and grabbing her mother’s hand.

“We’ll see about that,” Basil lets out a soft chuckle, before turning to Blake and Yang. “See you, girls, and regards to your family, Blake.”

“Thanks,” the faunus answers with a sad smile, accompanying them to the door while Yang stands behind with the kids.

Before the Talantas walk out of the house, however, Phoebe stands up and peaks over the couch. “Aster!” the brunette glances back at her and Phoebe bites her lips, fighting against the embarrassment that’s building up inside her. Eventually, gratitude becomes stronger and she looks her friend in the eyes before exclaiming, “You're a blockhead, but you’re the coolest blockhead I’ve ever met!”

She hears her twin gasp, while the small shepherd is left with her mouth agape —staring back at the faunus— until a tiny smirk tugs at her lips and a faint blush covers her cheeks.

“Don’t encourage her, Phoebe…” Lily says with a grimace while Basil grins mischievously at the two of them. Aster says nothing, and simply waves at them as the family leaves the house. They still haven’t resolved their differences, Phoebe reminds herself, but she can no longer say that she doesn’t trust her; not after this.

“ _Now_ ,” Blake says out loud after closing the door, glaring back at the twins while crossing her arms, “let’s talk about punishments.”

Phoebe and Damon share a look of despair and quickly hold hands again, dreading what the two women have in store for them. At this point, facing the bear again seems like a much more desirable prospect...


	19. Ep II: Chapter 6

“So? How do I look?” she asks while twirling around with her brand new sleeveless violet dress, her raven mane trailing behind her.

It’s one of the many pieces Blake and Yang bought her just a few days ago, and one that’s bound to become her usual evening dress, reserved for special events. She kinda likes it… but the fact she’s never worn anything so fancy makes her feel a little embarrassed and out of place. Damon regards her with an intense gaze from the edge of the bed, rubbing his chin and studying her from head to toe.

“You look like a princess,” he sums up with a serious nod, before the corner of his lips curl into a funny smile, “it’s really weird.”

Phoebe grins back, showing off her fangs as a faint blush creeps up her face. “You’re one to talk, Mr. One-Leg.”

Her twin pouts and glares down to his bare ankle covered in bandages. Blake chose for him a tiny elegant black vest and shorts, and if it weren’t for that small detail ruining the whole outfit, he’d look like a proper high-class gentleman. That being said, and although he looks really good in pretty clothes, she has to agree with him. It’s kind of weird…

Their new everyday attires, despite being leagues above the hand-me-downs they used to wear at the orphanage, are still humble and more… normal? She definitely thinks Damon was born to wear those overalls, and her own dress feels far better than any of those old and stretched t-shirts, but with these showy clothes it’s different. Perhaps that’s just the homeless orphan part of them overthinking everything again, but it’s like their own bodies know that something’s off, like they don’t match with them.

It’ll take some time getting used to, that’s for sure.

“It’s _Doctor_ One-Leg to you, missy!” Damon suddenly exclaims in an overly theatrical voice, standing up from the bed with his crutches and glowering at her; it took Yang barely ten minutes to put the things together from a few spare metal rods and some armor pads, but they’ve already proved to be super useful.

Phoebe holds back a chuckle, amused by his silliness. “That’s pretty close, but you’re still missing the eyepatch to be the perfect villain, bro.”

He smiles in return and strikes an epic pose, covering his right eye dramatically while tapping one of the crutches against the floor. “That’s what you think, huh?! Let’s see if you’re so bold after I unleash my full power!”

This time she’s incapable of holding it in and ends up bending over, cracking up out loud. His lips quiver and he soon follows after her, filling the entire bedroom with the sound of their laughter. It feels great to be able to laugh again after everything that’s happened. The memory of it is so horrible, so surreal, that right now it doesn’t even feel like it really happened at all.

As their laughter dies out, Damon sighs long and tiredly before looking up to her once more, his emerald eyes losing a bit of their light; she doesn’t even have to ask to know what he’s thinking about. “We’ve really messed up, huh?”

“Yup… we’ve messed up for real,” she slowly nods, grimacing. “We’ve got a long history of breaking Mrs. Darling’s rules, but I think this time we’ve outdone ourselves... if we don’t count, you know, the whole running away and living on the streets for six months.”

“I don’t like seeing them sad,” he confesses with narrowed eyes.

“Me neither…” Phoebe agrees weakly, and they both fall silent again.

They would’ve been grounded for a month as far as Blake and Yang were concerned, but the Spring Festival was coming, so they had to settle for grounding them until they left for Yang’s hometown in three days. The whole thing is a bit unfair, to be honest, considering what the twins put the two women through; to get away with such a big screw-up while also getting to enjoy fourteen days of uninterrupted festivities is wrong on too many levels. There will be restrictions, Phoebe’s sure of that, but they won’t keep them from enjoying it to their fullest, which only makes her feel all the more awful.

They need to behave from now on, if only to repay the couple for their kindness.

With her gaze lowered, Phoebe glances unconsciously at her brother’s injury and, for a brief moment, Aster’s words during their argument come back to her. That thing about not trusting him… It’s not true, she reminds herself. She reacted the way she did because she cares for him, and nothing else. She’s not going to hold it against her friend but, since Aster’s an only child, there’s no way she could understand what Phoebe went through by seeing her twin’s life in danger. Damon proved himself by nearly pulling off that stunt, yes, but it was irresponsible and dangerous, and no amount of ‘you should trust him more’ will make that fact disappear.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” her twin blurts while swaying his right foot, mistaking the reason for her staring, “but it turns walking downstairs into a nightmare...”

Burying that conflict deep down, she walks up to him and starts to casually fix his clothes. “Not as long as I’m around, bucko.”

He smiles for a brief second before glancing away with a sour look. “Yeah…”

“Hey,” she jabs a finger into his tummy, making him look at her, “it’s not a problem, okay? We’ve always helped each other whenever the other’s been sick. This is the same.”

“I guess so,” Damon concedes, his grimace unchanged.

“Besides, it has its benefits,” she adds with a mischievous smirk as she straightens his vest.

Her brother cocks an eyebrow, suspicious of her. “And those are...?”

“That I can kick your butt at tickle war! Oink, oink, oink!” she shouts before running her hands all over his sides, but way softer than usual. The boy immediately starts giggling and quivering in glee, waving his crutches in a helpless effort to ward off her attack. “At last! My revenge! Mwahahaha!”

“O-Okay, I g-gi—hahaha! Stop, stop, I get it! I—I give up—ahahaha!”

Phoebe stops her vicious assault once she’s had enough and leaves him to regain his breath, satisfied with her work; fixing his clothes has been a bit pointless since he’s even more of a mess than before, but seeing the smile back on his face makes up for it. He keeps panting for a few seconds before rising to meet her eyes, his cheeks sporting a healthy blush thanks to all the tickling.

“It’s _not_ a problem,” she reassures him again, looking right into his eyes, “got it?”

He gives a slow nod, smiling bashfully. “Got it... Thanks, Phoebe.”

“What are sisters for? Now come on,” the girl claims with a toothy grin, patting his back, “let’s see if Blake needs help with dinner or something,” her twin agrees with a silent nod and they leave their room together, but not before Phoebe adds. “And, by the way... Even if you fell, what you did was awesome. You’re awesome, Damon.”

The boy chuckles, his blush deepening. “Not as awesome as you, bear-wrestler.”

“Nope, but you’re getting close,” she snorts, patting him harder and almost making him trip over. “A-Ah, sorry!”

He sighs with a lopsided grin. “Dummy…”

  


* * *

  


After double checking the oven for the third time, Blake goes to the living room and slumps against the wall next to the twins as she finally makes sure that everything is in place. The house is tidy, the table is set, dinner is almost ready and the kids are looking amazing in their new evening clothes.

She wouldn’t call herself a neat freak or a perfectionist (not by Weiss’ standards at least, that kind of obsession deserves a book on its own), but when your parents are coming to visit roughly a year after moving into your first house with your wife, stakes are pretty high; and that’s before you throw a couple of recently adopted kids into the equation. Her parents are kind, patient and amazingly tolerant, so there’s zero chances of either of them criticizing her lifestyle or the way she does things in her own house. But even so, she wants them to see how good she and Yang are faring on their own, and be proud of them.

They’re already proud of her for being the head of the FIS, but this kind of approval is different. The former is because she’s grown as a leader, but the one she wants to earn tonight is because she’s grown as a person.

“Nervous?” Damon asks with a knowing look, sitting by the table with his crutches leaning against the chair.

“No,” she says, before stifling a chuckle at his skeptical stare. “A little bit.”

“Why? Didn’t you say they’re really nice people?” Phoebe —who’s playing with the frilly end of her skirt next to her brother— asks with a raised eyebrow.

“They are, but… it’s complicated. Aren’t you two nervous? This whole situation must be pretty awkward for you,” she shoots back, honestly curious. She tries to imagine facing the same scenario at their age, and it honestly terrifies her. But, surprisingly, the twins shrug it off.

“Maybe a little, but I’m more worried about meeting all your friends during the festival. How many were they? Six? Seven?” Damon argues, fidgeting merely at the thought. “Now _that_ will be awkward.”

“Good point,” she acknowledges with a nod and a funny smile.

“I just came face to face with a killer bear this morning, Blake,” Phoebe declares nonchalantly, before opening her arms and tapping her chest in a challenging manner. “Right now I feel like facing both your families at the same time!”

That’s certainly a way to see it, although Blake herself doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic after the whole ordeal; she’s probably aged ten years in a single day from pure panic alone. As for Yang… The situation hit her home. It’s been years since they talked about that incident, but Blake recognized the pain and fear in her voice when she yelled at the kids earlier; it was like she was yelling at herself. But thanks to Yang, nothing happened, and the kids got to learn the same valuable lesson she learned, that every action has a consequence. Hopefully, this will benefit their common sense in the future.

Growth is all about making mistakes, after all.

Right at that moment they hear the sound of a horn coming from outside, causing Blake to jolt up from the chair and cross her fingers. “Well, here they are.”

The kids do the same in unison with a determined look on their faces before Phoebe helps her twin down from the chair, and the three go to stand by the entrance with Blake taking the front. The sun has already set, so there’s but a faint golden glow pouring through the window, which makes the front lights of Yang’s car easily recognizable. The murmur of friendly chatter reaches the door, and Blake takes one final breath before the latch is unlocked.

“Welcome to the Belladonna-Xiao Long household!” Yang announces with her arms outstretched, walking into the living room wearing one of her beige jackets and immediately locking eyes with her. “The name is still a work in process, so suggestions are always welcome. Right, kitty?”

“I think ‘home’ works just fine,” Blake jests, welcoming her wife with a quick peck and turning to look at her parents. 

Her mom comes in first after Yang, her attire consisting of yet another redesign of her traditional black outfit with golden embroidery, but with an elegant haori over it, more appropriate for Mistral’s cooler temperatures. A pair of golden eyes meet hers, and Kali Belladonna instantly breaks into a smile, her own cat ears perking up; despite the subtle graying of her hair, she looks as young as ever.

“Blake, my dear,” she greets, stepping in to embrace her.

Blake hugs her back, relishing in the familiar perfume. “Hi, mom. How was the trip?”

“Lovely. Business class is a lot better now than twenty years ago, and the food was far tastier than the last time we flew. It’s no surprise people prefer flying to sailing nowadays. Don’t you think, Ghira?” her mother explains merrily, turning to look behind her.

“Huh? Ah, yeah, yeah, it was really nice,” her dad is right beyond the threshold, his eyes comically out of sight due to his massive height. “Yang, mind helping me with this?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” the blonde quickly steps away from them to help the man move their baggage inside the house, letting out a small chuckle on her way. “Geez, we’re gonna have to build a second door just for you, big man.”

“You and half of Remnant at this rate! Thanks, dear,” he laughs, passing her one of the bags before bowing a little to fit through the door. He’s wearing one of his favourite —and one of the oldest— coats, thick, purple and trimmed with fur; one her mom has tried many times to get rid of, but to no avail. “Blake, sweetheart, come here!”

“Hello, dad,” she walks into his open arms, getting immediately enveloped in a giant hug, quite literally.

“It’s been too long, sweetie…” he whispers warmly, rubbing her back.

She laughs quietly, ears dropped. “Even a month is too long for you, dad...”

“Of course it is! Especially when you’re—! Oh…” he suddenly stops mid-sentence, letting go of her. Blake steps back and follows his gaze right behind her, to the twins standing there in awkward silence, looking between her parents with curious eyes. 

Okay... here we go.

“Well then, I guess introductions are in order, huh?” Yang starts, leaving the bag on the couch and crouching behind the kids with a hand on their shoulders. “Bella-daddies, these are Phoebe and Damon. Kids, Kali and Ghira Belladonna.”

Her mom approaches them first, carefully, as if they could run away at any moment like frightened fawns. She gets down on her knees, resting her hands on her lap, and glances between them with a mesmerized expression. “I’m so glad to finally meet you... Blake has kept us on tenterhooks about you and it’s been _unbearable_ ,” she explains dramatically, eyeing her from the corner of the eye.

Phoebe and Damon look at each other and frown at the same time, then the girl shily ventures, “Then, you don’t know about…”

“We know enough,” her dad finishes with a kind smile, dropping on one knee next to her mom. Of course, they’re both well aware of the circumstances surrounding Yang’s meeting with the kids and their precarious life up until then; Blake made sure of that despite not filling in the minor details of their short time as ‘guests’ in the house.

“We didn’t know anything about that, though…” her mom points out, frowning at Damon’s condition. “What happened to you, sweetie?”

The boy shrinks, embarrassed and biting his lower lip. “I tripped while playing. But I’m okay now! Yang made me these and I can move around just fine,” he adds, tapping his crutches against the floor. “She said I only need to rest for a couple of weeks.”

“That’s unfortunate… You’ll have to take extra care of your brother during the festival, you hear?” the man tells Phoebe with a half-serious expression.

The girl quickly gets emboldened, puffing out her chest in response to the sudden responsibility placed on her. “I won’t leave his side for a moment, sir!”

“My, what a mature young girl,” her mom happily praises Phoebe. Her dad responds very differently, however.

“Sir? _Sir_?!” he repeats, faking outrage, before breaking into a giant grin. “Who’re you calling sir? Call me grandpa!”

“I-I… Uh…” Phoebe stutters with wide panicky eyes, clearly not expecting that request and glancing at her twin for help, who seems equally stunned. 

Her mom grimaces, ears slightly dropped. “Ghira…”

Blake intervenes right then, noticing the kids’ rapidly blushing cheeks and troubled expressions. “D-Dad, I think it’s a little too early for that kind of… familiarity. They’ve been with us for less than a week, and these things...” she meets the twins’ eyes —and their relieved and thankful looks—, and puts up an understanding smile, “these things take time.”

“And we have all the time in the world,” her mom nods meaningfully, resting a hand on the man’s massive arm. “Dear?”

Her dad seems a little bit disheartened at first, but after a moment of considering he sighs and nods as well. “Y-You’re right, honey… I suppose I got… carried away by the emotion,” he regards the twins once more, gentler but with the same resolution. “But no sir, Mr. Belladonna or anything like that. Ghira will do just fine, alright?”

“Alright,” the kids answer at the same time, regaining their composure.

Yang, who’s been watching from the sidelines with a crooked smirk, steps closer while rubbing her hands together. “So… I don’t know about you guys, but I’m kinda hungry. How about we keep talking while having dinner?”

“That sounds wonderful,” her mom agrees, standing up, “but shouldn’t we wait for your neighbours?”

“About that… I’m afraid they won’t be joining us, after all,” Blake replies with a frown.

Her dad rises to his full height as well, knitting his eyebrows in confusion. “They won’t? It’s not because of us, I hope. You said they had no problem…”

“No, no, it’s not because of you. It’s…” Blake trails off, peeking at the twins.

“It’s a long story,” Yang finishes for her, running a hand through her hair.

  


* * *

  


The garlic butter baked salmon Blake had cooked for dinner was one of the best things Yang had tasted in her entire life, and she had never really been a fan of fish at all. Juicy, tasty, the right amount of salt, the perfect touch of spice… It was disgustingly delicious. The faunus had been practicing and perfecting the recipe over the last few months since they moved in (in preparation for her parents unavoidable visit sooner or later), and this was the pinnacle of her efforts. 

An opinion clearly shared by everyone around the table. Blake’s parents showered her with compliments while the twins quickly classified the dish as their new all-time favourite, and not without reason; with the kind food they’re probably used to eating, this meal must’ve been otherworldly.

It helped soothing the mood a little bit as the couple recounted the events of that morning, even if Yang wasn’t all that happy to relive those terrifying minutes.

After all these years, she would’ve never imagined that horrible chapter of her life coming back to haunt her, or that she would get to experience how Qrow and her dad felt that day; that fear of not making it in time as she rushed through the forest, the cold sweat running down her back, the lack of air… Yeah, the earful she got from her dad feels more than justified now that she’s been in his shoes.

“That was incredibly reckless, kids,” Ghira frowns while leaving his fork momentarily on the table, befuddled by the story. He leans forward with his arms crossed to exert his overwhelming presence, a skill he uses unconsciously during committee meetings to get his points across, according to Blake. “What made you think it was a good idea to venture into the woods by yourselves?”

Kali takes another bite of her salmon, silently waiting for their response with a compassionate but equally adamant look in her eyes; she’s usually very forgiving —or at least she was to Yang during her time living on Menagerie—, but she can be stern when the situation requires it.

On the other side of the table, the twins’ only answer is to lower their heads, guilt-ridden and staring into their plates. It’s the same question she asked them before yelling at Damon, so maybe they think answering directly will get the same reaction; and a roaring man-beast like Ghira has to be far scarier than her…

“Well?” he presses on without raising his voice, patiently but with a firm tone.

Yang knows how the kids must be feeling though, because she’s been in their shoes as well, and if they’re anything like her, this lesson’s going to be _burned_ into their memories forever; something they’ll remember each time they think about doing something dangerous again. That being said, and even if it was irresponsible, it’s not like they deserve to be tortured for their mistake every single minute.

She didn’t want that for herself, and she doesn’t want that for them either.

“Ghira... I think they’ve had enough,” she states calmly from her seat next to the twins, her fork mere inches away from her mouth. “We’ve already given them a good scolding. A _very_ good scolding,” she emphasizes, “and they promised to never do it again. So let’s just… drop the issue and move on, okay?”

“I don’t want to keep dwelling on it, either,” Blake says, giving her wife an appreciative look. “We’ve all made mistakes in our youth. We’ve all broken the rules at some point and faced the consequences. This is supposed to be a pleasant family dinner, let’s not sour the mood with ‘what-ifs’ and things that can’t be changed,” she finishes by taking a bite of her salmon, stifling a cute moan at the taste of her own work.

Ghira seems to consider their words very carefully, falling silent for a moment before nodding to himself and relaxing on his seat. “You’re… You’re both right, dears. I can’t help but get all overprotective when it comes to my family’s safety,” he then stares apologetically at the twins while cocking an eyebrow. “What a nice impression I must be giving you, huh? But believe me, I’m not as stiff-necked as I appear to be.”

“I don’t think you are, Mr. Bell— G-Ghira,” Damon denies sheepishly, looking up to the man in front of him. “We did a lot of bad things while we lived in the orphanage, but this one really takes the cake…”

“Yeah. Even when we ran away, we had a good reason. But this time… we just thought we knew better,” his sister lets out a sad chuckle. “We deserve this…”

This actually makes Ghira grimace, regret clearly showing in his face, just before his eyes open wide in surprise at the sonorous clap that echoes throughout the living room; for once, it doesn’t come from Yang. Everyone turns to look at Blake, sitting upright on her seat with a deep frown.

“I said I don’t want to hear any more of it,” the faunus glares at each and every person at the table before her expression softens. “The past is in the past, okay? So how about you all go back to praising my outstanding cooking skills?”

A short silence befalls the room before Yang shatters it by laughing out loud. “You tell them, Blake!”

The twins stare at her in confusion, before the corner of their lips simultaneously turn upwards, their eyes recovering some of their usual innocent brightness. “This is really, really, really good, Blake. Can I have seconds?” Damon asks in a cheerful tone, offering his empty plate to her, but Phoebe quickly puts her own in the middle while pursing her lips.

“Me first!”

“Don’t worry, there’s enough for everyone,” Blake nods with a satisfied smile. At her side, Kali chuckles through her teeth, staring fondly at her daughter. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just surprised to see how quickly you’re getting into the right mindset, both of you,” the woman declares, glancing between the young couple before leaning back on her chair with a melancholic look. “It’s kind of sad… Just a year ago I had you living under our roof, all to myself. And now you’re here, hundreds of kilometers away, making a family of your own...”

“Mom…”

“It’s not a family of our own, Kali. It’s more like... an extension,” Yang argues with a smirk, taking a sip from her wine. “It’s like you and my parents are the main kingdoms and we’re the Colonies. But, you know, without territorial disagreements or deadly Grimm lurking in our backyard.”

“There’s Mrs. Mellivor,” Phoebe says, grinning impishly at her while taking her second serving of baked salmon.

“There’s Mrs. Mellivor,” Yang agrees, giggling.

Damon purses his lips, peeking at them in disapproval. “That’s rude...”

Kali shares his opinion —obviously because she has no idea who they’re talking about—, shaking her head in reproach, but she can’t help the tiny amused smile tugging at her lips. “Even so, it feels really strange seeing my girls so mature and taking care of their own children,” she admits, then quickly adds, “but in a good way. It’s sad… but it makes me proud.”

“Both of us,” Ghira corrects, raising his glass of wine in front of everyone. “For our growing family!”

His wife follows suit, beaming. “For our growing family.”

“Yeah!” the twins shout together, raising their waters. 

Yang holds her own glass as high as she can, intoxicated by the joyful atmosphere, before making eye contact with Blake; her wife furrows an eyebrow, clearly expecting some kind of pun or funny remark to go with the moment. But the blonde merely winks and lowers her glass in front of the faunus, offering her the first toast. The radiant smile on Blake’s face as she silently touches her glass with hers makes Yang forget for a second about the horror she endured this morning, and fills her with nothing but hope for the future.

From that point on, the night goes as smoothly as her car after a full engine check. There’s no further mention about the incident in the forest, and instead they entertain Blake’s parents with a recounting of their first week as a four-member family unit, including the cookie baking and Blake’s unbelievable victory at the boardgame (which they find quite amusing). The kids also start to lighten up and talk more once the issue about their misconduct is left behind, showering the Bella-daddies with questions of all types.

“Soooo… Are you royalty or something? Blake says you’re the rulers of Menagerie and live in a huge mansion,” Phoebe had wondered out of the blue at some point, making Ghira laugh before he explained what a chieftain is and how it has nothing to do with real royalty.

“You’re invited to check it out anytime you want,” Kali had offered soon after with an all too eager granny-like smile.

It surprised the four grown-ups when the twins, far from being uninterested in visiting the great Belladonna household in Kuo Kuana, seemed infinitely more thrilled to be getting near the ocean for the first time in their lives; the mere notion of going to the beach or getting on a boat was like a dream come true for them. It’s little things like this which reminds Yang that these kids have spent their entire lives cooped up in a tiny building in Mistral. 

“I guess that settles how we’ll make our summer trip to Menagerie,” the blonde had chuckled immediately after, propping her head on one hand and wiggling her eyebrows at Blake. “I’m all in for an encore of our honeymoon, Blake. How about you?”

Blake chortled and leaned back, losing herself in her own day-dreaming. “I wouldn’t say no to a few days on a cruise…”

“Are you… Are you being serious? A cruise?!” Phoebe’s reaction had been as expected, standing up on her chair and gawking at them with wide teal eyes.

“Across the sea?!” Damon followed, just as excited.

“Yup! And on one of the biggest boats you’ve ever seen.”

Traveling by sea isn’t a very popular option nowadays. The construction of a CCT tower on Menagerie was one of the FIS first and greatest achievements, as it made airborne travel between the island and the main kingdoms much easier (and basically the default choice for everyone), but a small trip across the sea with Blake and the kids sounded too good to pass up; the excited sparkle in the children’s eyes only sealed the deal for her.

Their future visit to Menagerie becomes the main topic of conversation for the rest of the dinner, as both sides keep suggesting ideas for things to do while on the island, taking into consideration all the things the twins have never had the chance to experience. One could argue that giving your children everything they want would make them spoiled and bratty, but when their deepest wishes are walking bare-foot across a sandy beach, learning to swim or just going on a mount hike, it’s safe to assume you don’t have to worry.

Soon after they start with dessert, the topic trails off to the things they can do with the Bella-daddies, as Ghira and Kali ponder over how to spend their time with the kids in Himawari.

“Wait, you’re... staying here with us?” Damon asks, stifling a tiny yawn as he speaks.

“Of course!” Ghira exclaims.

Yang leans forward on the table to give the boy a playful look. “You didn’t think we’d make them fly all the way from Menagerie just to send them back after dinner, right?”

“Come on, bro. They even brought bags with them…” Phoebe whines with a grimace, turning her attention away from her slice of cake and making clear gestures to the luggage piled on the couch.

“U-Uh…” the boy’s cheeks go red with embarrassment, but he ignores their teases and turns to Ghira once more. “Then… you’re coming to Yang’s hometown with us for the festival?”

“I really wish we could. Patch is a sight to behold during this time of year… And I wouldn’t mind showing your dad what arm wrestling really is,” the man replies, giving Yang a lopsided grin. Her father would be all too happy to spend the festival with the Belladonnas again, since they’re rarely able to take two weeks off their duties, but he probably won’t miss getting destroyed by Ghira in front of his entire family. “But no… Unfortunately, we have a very important appointment to attend to at Vacuo.”

Damon visibly deflates, his shoulders sagging. “Aw…”

“You’re going to Vacuo? I didn’t know that,” Yang frowns, glancing between him and Kali. “The whole kingdom is like a boiling pot with all those bandit raids and the people’s protests. Are you checking on the FIS office in the main city or something?”

“Oh, that’s… that’s what they were talking about on the news,” Damon chimes in again, his eyes heavy and weary.

“Bandif raifs?” Phoebe asks with furrowed brows and her mouth full of cake.

Kali smiles tenderly and reaches out with her napkin to wipe the cream off Phoebe’s lips, making the girl blush. “The situation is delicate, but we’re not staying in the capital,” she admits, returning to her seat. “Technically, this has nothing to do with the FIS, it’s more of a favor we’re doing to an... old friend.”

The man nods, untroubled by the prospect of getting in the middle of that shitstorm, and eagerly partakes in his dessert. “Phara Nilus has invited us to spend a few days in her city to help her with the matter of the refugees. She’s used to rule over her own people, but Ziggurat was sealed to the outside even before she took up the mantle from her father, so taking care of migrants is something she’s never done before.”

“And who better to help than the rulers of an island that was basically founded by migrants and refugees from all over Remnant?” Blake adds with a wistful smile, running a finger along the rim of her cup.

Well… that makes sense. If Menagerie has been doing something since it was founded, it’s taking people running away from hatred and giving them a home; and that’s exactly what those refugees need right now. But even so, there’s still something that doesn’t add up...

“Yeah, right. But how do you even know this woman?” Yang queries, her brows drawing together while she crosses her arms on the table. “I mean, I’m no expert in Vacuan history but, hasn’t her family been holing up in that fortress since, like, forever?”

Kali shakes her head. “Not exactly.”

“Phara was the sole benefactor of the White Fang during its humble beginnings, providing us with supplies, equipment and everything we needed to sustain our activities, even if she never attended a single rally. At least until the group started to lose sight of its true goals,” Ghira explains, his gaze lost at the bottom of his teacup. “When Sienna became High Leader, Phara turned off the money tap and the White Fang was left with nothing.”

“Which only made them even more violent and desperate…” Blake sighs.

“Precisely.”

It’s sad to think that, by refusing to support a violent group, the woman actually turned them way worse than how they already were. But at the same time, it’s nice knowing there are people out there in places of power willing to sacrifice so much for the greater good; Yang can only imagine what could’ve happened if she’d actually chosen to support Sienna and the corrupted Fang...

“And, as you can imagine, as soon as she heard that the White Fang was once more under good management,” the man continues before turning to beam at Blake, who smiles widely in return, “she offered her full support again.”

“Then, does that mean—?”

“Yup, she’s now one of the main sponsors of the FIS. I’d go as far as to say her wallet alone keeps half the group operating,” Blake snorts, her lips twisting into a funny smile. “Just… don’t ever let Weiss know that.”

“My lips are sealed,” the blonde laughs before taking a sip of her coffee, knowing all too well how the Ice Queen would react to someone surpassing her, even at something like giving money to a good cause; she’d probably start furiously throwing more lien at Blake until either she got her position as prime supporter back or her whole family went bankrupt. “But now it makes perfect sense. With that kind of patronage, it’s no wonder you’re rushing to help her!”

“When you put it like that it sounds terrible...” Blake frowns, her ears dropping adorably.

“I think we owe her that much. Despite the ominous aura the media has painted around her, she’s never tried to abuse her position to gain control over the White Fang, not even during those first years,” Ghira declares, admiration dripping from his voice. “That’s worthy of recognition.”

“It’s not control she was interested in, _Ghira_ ,” Kali blurts sharply, taking a sip from her tea.

“Kali, please… Don’t start with that again.”

The woman purses her lips. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just stating the facts.”

In a matter of seconds the mood shifts completely, with Kali glaring daggers at Ghira, and the giant man shaking his head in denial like an awkward teenager trying to convince his mom of something he hasn’t done. The gist of their disagreement doesn’t seem to be lost on Blake, who facepalms —real hard— and starts massaging her temples. “Oh, dear…”

“Wait a minute, what do you—?” Yang starts, eyes darting between her wife’s parents until her face contorts. “ _No_. No way... Ghira?!”

“It’s not like that!” he bellows, going red in the face and smashing his teacup on the table.

Her jaw drops in pure disbelief. “Oh-My-Gosh! Ghira, you wolf!”

“T-This is all Kali’s misunderstanding! Phara has always behaved like nothing but a proper friend and associate. She’s never been to one of our assemblies, and we’ve only met face to face three or four times at best,” he argues, turning to his wife with a pleading look. “Besides, you’ve always been there with me, dear.”

“Of course I was. You think I was going to leave you alone with that viper?” Kali retorts with a predatory look before taking another sip. “Come on, Ghira, tell her about the letters.”

“Stop, please…” Blake whines, shrinking in her seat.

She’d tell them to drop the topic for her wife’s sake, but Yang is already more invested in this story than in any drama series she’s watched on TV. “ _Letters_?!”

The man looks at Yang, then at Kali, and finally at Yang again with a defeated sigh. "Ziggurat has no CCT tower, and it's too far away from the capital to benefit from their signal. So the only way for us to make arrangements and discuss important matters was through regular post service…”

“Important matters,” Kali repeats with a wiggle of her eyebrows, making Yang snort.

“ _Yes_ , everything related to the group and her economic support,” he nods vigorously. “And besides, she didn’t just write to me! She always addressed you as well, honey.”

“Oh, you’re right... If you mean the two-sentence sidenotes at the foot of the letters wishing me good health. I swear, to this day I still don’t know if those were genuine or if it was some sort of subtle sarcasm,” there’s so much sass in her voice that Yang can’t help but bend over cackling over the table. Although the argument seems serious, it’s evident by the sly grin on her face that she’s more amused by the woman’s advances on her husband than worried about him giving in.

Honestly, this woman is the teasing master Yang aspires to be one day.

“And how do we know this isn’t part of her brilliant scheme and she’s been sponsoring you all this time just to get chummy with our ladies’ man here?” she points out to Kali, rubbing her chin in a very detectivesque manner.

“Ohhhh, that’s a fair point, dear.”

Blake stares back at them, poker-faced. “You think she’d dump hundreds of thousands of lien into our pockets just because she—,” she stops mid-sentence to make a silly grimace and look at Ghira, who by this point has buried his face in his hands in surrender, “just because she had the hots for my father?”

Yang shrugs her shoulders, her mouth set in a devilish grin. “Hey, I’m no rich gal, but if money is not a problem… I don’t know, why wouldn’t she? It’d be like investing in a luxury car or something.”

“A car… Great,” he mumbles into his hands.

“She’s right,” Kali chuckles before finishing her tea and leaving the cup in front of her with a contented sigh. “But no. As much as she gets under my skin, I know she honestly wishes to help improve the relationship between humans and faunus with all of her heart.”

Now that’s the Kali she knows, ever kind and understanding.

“Really? Why?” the blonde feels forced to ask.

“Because she—,”

Yang suddenly feels a small hand tugging at her shirt. “Um… Yang...”

Phoebe, who’s staring at her with half-lidded eyes —the plate of cake in front of her long emptied—, gestures to Damon next to her while holding back a yawn. The girl is showing clear signs of sleepiness, but her twin is already passed out in his seat, snoring peacefully on the table with his arms as a pillow. They’ve been so engrossed in their own talk that they didn’t even notice the kids falling asleep.

“Xiao Long down,” Yang chuckles under her breath, turning to look across the living room to the wall clock. “And it’s no wonder why, look at the time.”

“It must’ve been a pretty rough day for them, and all this political stuff probably didn’t help,” Ghira whispers, looking down to the placid sleeping boy with a warm smile.

“Blake, dear, should I…?” Kali asks politely, halfway on her feet and gesturing to Damon.

“No, it’s okay,” but Blake quickly shakes her head, standing up and arriving at the boy’s side with a quick but careful step. “Damon… Damon… it’s time for bed,” she gently tries to stir him, but the boy simply hums in his sleep and settles on the table even more. The faunus has no other choice but to pick him up in her arms, where he instinctively seeks the crook of her neck to get more comfortable. She’s awkward —adorably so—, and Yang can’t help a little smirk as her wife sticks her tongue out while trying to get a solid grasp on the boy.

“That goes for you too, Phoebe,” Yang then informs the girl, poking her forehead before standing up as well.

“I’m not tired, I can stay… a little bit more,” she scowls, her mouth opening for the third time in the last minute.

“Yeah... no,” the blonde laughs, already opening her arms to pick the girl up, which only makes her frown harder.

“And I can walk.”

“Say that once you try _this_ comfiness.”

Before she has the chance to argue, Yang has already snatched the little imp from her seat and pressed her against her chest. Phoebe grunts and thrashes around in an attempt to get free, but it’s clear by the weakness in her movements that she’s more tired than she realizes, and in a matter of seconds she falls prey to Yang’s body warmth, relaxing and humming softly into her shoulder.

“I’m… not… tired…” she breathes, her voice low as a whisper.

“Yeah, yeah… I know, I know,” Yang sighs while rubbing her back. Despite the girl’s temper and feisty attitude, in the end she’s as much of a sweetheart as her twin; all it takes is a bit of perseverance and stubbornness, things Yang has in overabundance.

Blake finally has a stable hold of the boy —who doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit perturbed after all the maneuvering— and smirks triumphantly at her, like she’s just overcome some difficult challenge. The sight of her wife holding Damon like that is probably one of the most endearing things she’s ever seen, and judging by the goofy smiles plastered on her in-laws, they think so too.

They’re about to go upstairs when Kali speaks again. “Want to know how I’m sure of that woman’s honesty?” she asks in a murmur, her bright golden eyes not tearing away from the kids in their arms. Yang stops near the stairs and looks back at the woman, giving a silent nod. “She adopted a human girl shortly before the White Fang disbanded and made her the next heir of the Nilus family. She took an orphan child who had nothing... and gave her _everything_ she had,” she makes a pause to let her words sink in before looking both Yang and Blake in the eyes with a knowing smile. “I think that says a lot about a person, don’t you agree?”

The blonde unconsciously glances at her wife once more, at the peacefully snoring kid in her arms, and then at the sleeping bundle currently pressed against her own chest, and a faint flush slowly creeps up her face. Yang doesn't feel the need to answer that question, because she knows it's not meant to be answered, so she merely exchanges a brief look of triumph with Blake before they leave the room to put the children in bed.

It's subtle, and neither of them notices, but they both hold their heads a little bit higher the rest of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate writer's block? I sure hate writer's block! 
> 
> Once again, I apologize for taking so long... I promise I'll keep trying my best to update as soon as possible. I wanted to reach the festival arc before Volume 8 gets released, and I think I can still make it in time... 
> 
> There's only one more chapter before that, and it's gonna be composed of a few mini stories about the Bella-daddies spending time with the family (if you're acquainted with Avatar: The last airbender, it's gonna be like a 'Tales of Ba Sing Se' kind of chapter), so expect a lot of fluff... Just in case we didn't have enough of that here, am I right? ;)
> 
> UPDATE: Crap, I forgot to put the right title! Great job, me...


	20. Ep II: Chapter 7

**PILLOWTALK**

“I’m telling you, Blake, this isn’t necessary,” her dad breathes with his arms crossed, standing next to her and Yang’s king-sized bed. He had been against the idea since they first offered after dinner, and although she thought he would change his mind after a good shower —when all the pent up tiredness from the flight would finally catch up to him—, even now he stubbornly tries to be the perfect guest.

“Dad, it’s settled. I don’t mind, and neither does Yang. The beds in the kids’ room are just too small for you,” Blake says with a sympathetic grin, resting against the wardrobe while playing with the sleeves of her nightwear. “You really want to spend the night with your feet dangling in the air, like in those motels during our rallies? Imagine if one of the kids got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and stumbled upon that image, what would they think of their new grandpa…?”

His eyes widen in horror at a moment’s notice, like she’s just suggested the most horrible scenario in the world. And considering how strung up he’s gotten about the twins, that’s probably not too far-fetched… which of course means he automatically swallows his pride and sighs in defeat.

“At least it’s only for a couple of nights…” he responds as he sits down on the mattress, incapable of holding back a breath of pure exhaustion. He starts stretching his body when he notices the picture sitting on the nightstand next to him. He picks it up without saying a word and spends a few seconds staring at it in silence, before finally glancing at her with a childish —and equally proud— smile that makes all the little wrinkles around his mouth more noticeable.

Blake avoids his gaze, her cheeks warming up at the unspoken praise, just like she’s done every time her parents had given her _that_ look during dinner. She wanted to earn their approval, but she didn’t expect to succeed by such an overkill!

“We took it the other day, just after we finished with all the paperwork,” she explains, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I can tell," he chuckles warmly, eyes fixated on the photo. "I'd like a copy before we leave, if you don't mind."

"Of course. And speaking of that... I didn't miss the camera inside your bag, dad. I suppose it's not to capture Himawari's beautiful surroundings?" Blake jokes, cocking an eyebrow.

Her father laughs a bit louder, leaving the picture in its place. "We have seven years worth of pictures to make up for, Blake. The family album isn't going to make itself."

She giggles into her hand before giving her dad a pleading look. "Just… go easy on them, okay?"

Her mother walks into the bedroom right at that moment, already in her nightgown, and winks at her. "Don't worry, dear. I'll keep your father in check."

He turns around at the sound of her voice and gives her a knowing look, unfaced by her teasing. “You say that, but you’re just as excited as I am. You just hide it better.”

She doesn’t rebuke his statement and merely shrugs her shoulders in a coquettish manner, as if refusing to tell him her secret. Blake takes her arrival as her cue and moves away from the wardrobe to stand next to her before asking, “So? How was it?”

“To be honest, I thought it would be harder. It’s been so long since the last time I did it…” her mom trails off, peeking at her with melancholic eyes for a brief moment before her expression lights up again. “But no, turns out it’s just like riding a bicycle, you never really forget it. It was nice being able to do it again...”

“Thanks for backing me up, mom. I wouldn’t even know how to take off their shoes without making a mess…”

“It’s normal to feel that way the first time, Blake, but after a couple of tries you’ll get the hang of it. It’s really not that hard,” her mom reassures her. “Besides, Yang seems to be an expert already, I’m sure she can give you a few tips. You don’t have to learn everything on your own, unlike poor old me...”

“Hey, I’m right here,” her dad grunts.

“Yang was a master by the time she turned ten,” Blake snorts. “But yeah, hopefully some of that will rub off on me…”

Her mother steps closer and rests a hand on her shoulder before placing a kiss on her forehead, like she used to do when Blake was a kid. “You’re doing amazing already, Blake. Try not to think about the hardships and just… enjoy every moment with your children,” she shrugs with a nonchalant smile. “You’ll find that every little thing is easily sorted out if you don’t stress too much about them. Trust me.”

Blake isn’t sure how her mother manages to nail every single life advice she gives her, as plain and simple as they seem on the surface, but she does. It’s easier said than done, all things considered, but her words do put her at ease.

“Thanks, mom... I’ll give it a shot,” she says firmly before taking a deep breath and moving towards the door. “Well, it’s been a long day, and I’m sure you’ll want to be fresh and lively for tomorrow...”

“We do,” her mom nods earnestly. “Have a good night, dear.”

Her dad is already pulling back the sheets when he glances at her. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

“You too.”

With one final smile, Blake shuts their door and crosses the corridor to the kids’ bedroom. It feels nice sleeping under the same roof as her parents again... It always gives her a sense of warmth and safety, no matter how many years pass and how much she grows; having Phoebe and Damon as well makes it slightly different, but no less special.

The lights are already off when Blake enters the room, but her eyes adjust almost immediately and she makes up the form of the twins sleeping in which is technically Damon’s bed, just like they’ve been doing since they arrived. The mattress is adult-sized, which means they have plenty of space, but even though Yang and her left a good gap between them, they’re already bundled together, facing each other in the middle of the bed like little magnets.

The sight makes the corner of her mouth curve up involuntarily, but the chilly breeze flowing through the corridor’s window is enough to make her snap out and hurriedly close the door behind her. Yang is already curled up underneath the sheets in Phoebe’s bed, but her glimmering lilac eyes are still open and staring back at her. Walking on her tiptoes, Blake reaches the bed and lies down beneath the sheets next to the blonde, who quickly scoots closer until their noses are nearly touching.

“Soooo… Final verdict?” Yang whispers.

“Mmhm?”

“The evening. Minus the start, I think we can say it’s been a huge success, right?”

“Yeah, I think it was,” Blake nods, feeling the pillow push against her head and making her drowsy. “They seem very fond of the kids, too...”

Her wife snickers under her breath, cocking an eyebrow. “Fond? Try enraptured, especially your dad. Don’t be surprised if by Tuesday morning he tries to convince them to dump us and go with them to Vacuo.”

Blake is too mentally exhausted to laugh, but she manages a weak titter and a sly grin. “Sorry, but you’re not getting away from introducing them to Ruby.”

“That’s a low blow,” Yang pouts.

“You _still_ haven’t called her.”

“Ugh, I know,” she groans quietly into the pillow. “I’ve been trying to, but I just couldn’t do it. She grew up with Qrow as her role model, imagine her reaction when she learns it’s her turn to be the edgy scythe-wielding aunt...”

“She’ll be... thrilled, I guess?”

“You’re kidding? If I had called her she would’ve crashed here before I even had the chance to hang up the scroll and invited herself to spend a few days… And I don’t know about you, but I think having my sister bunking together with us, the kids, or your parents would be rather awkward.”

She’s about to retort about the clear exaggeration, but then she remembers Ruby is currently in Argus with Ren, Nora and Jaune, visiting the latter's sister. That’s roughly half the kingdom away, but it’s definitely not a real impediment when it comes to her old team leader, especially now that she can maintain her Semblance for hours and almost power her way across any distance; talk about saving on transport...

“During the festival she’ll have plenty of time to pester them with her shenanigans and satisfy her aunty needs. It’s perfect,” the blonde continues, nodding at her own brilliance.

Blake’s mouth sets in a straight line. “So you’re just gonna drop the bomb about the kids and your retirement right then and there?”

“Yup.”

…

“She’s going to kill you,” Blake grins mischievously, then turns around on the bed without saying another word.

Just a second after, Yang presses herself against her back, sliding her left arm over and intertwining her fingers with hers before playfully whispering, “You’ll keep me safe.”

Blake simply chuckles to herself and gives her hand a squeeze. “I will.”

  


* * *

**THE TELL-TALE DAISIES**

Damon has never quite understood the expression ‘being on top of the world’ since, you know, the world is round and is floating in space so there isn’t really a ‘top’ or a ‘bottom’... But if it’s anything like riding on the shoulders of a man so big that he can’t fit through most doors, then he can get a pretty good idea.

It had been difficult to take Ghira up on his offer to carry him when their new grandparents —he’s still getting his head around how strange that sounds— approached them after breakfast and suggested that the four went for a stroll around the village. Damon’s first reaction had been to politely decline the offer —being carried, not the stroll—, since he had his crutches and didn’t want to be a nuisance. But after a few yards, it became apparent that he was slowing down the march, so he ended up relenting, to his adopted grandfather's greatest delight.

After that they’d spent an hour or so just wandering aimlessly through the fields making small talk and, more often than not, taking pictures with the older couple; he’s not sure if doing it so frequently is what normal are used to, but the man has certainly taken enough to fill half a book. 

The Belladonnas were very interested in their life in the orphanage, but they only asked about trivial things like what games he and Phoebe used to play with their friends, how often they went outside, how classes were like... but not even once were they asked about the six months the twins spent on the streets. Damon doesn’t know if it’s because they have enough with what Blake told them, or if they think it’s inconsiderate to ask, but he doesn’t want it to become some kind of taboo, especially since that chapter is now closed for good; as ugly as it was, it’s still an important part of their lives.

Phoebe and him, in turn, asked about Menagerie and how their daily life there was when Blake and Yang still lived with them, curious about the couple’s previous lifestyle. Apparently, they were both very busy with their respective jobs and spent most of the time outside the island, but during the brief occasions in which they were both free, they would share every single moment together. The two would try to keep Blake’s parents company in Kuo Kuana as much as they could —Kali had pointed out with a smile—, but they would often travel around the region by themselves, something Ghira had referred to as ‘a couple’s most needed leisure time’.

Damon doesn’t know anything about couples, but he can get behind the feeling of wanting to spend what little time you have with the person who's most important to you.

Despite that, it turned out the old couple had a great deal of stories about the young marriage, like this one time when they were having a nice day at the beach and Yang nearly beat up some guys up because—

“They were hitting on Blake?” Damon blinks, his expression turning angry. Blake is one the nicest people he’s ever met, she doesn’t deserve that. “That’s awful! She didn’t do anything to them!”

Ghira turns his head to peek at the boy sitting on his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

Phoebe, who’s walking alongside Kali in front of them, hops around with her hands on her waist and her fangs bared. “Yeah! What’s with people being so violent nowadays? The other day a Huntress tried to pick up a fight with Yang too, and just because she’s famous or whatever,” she shakes her head, frowning. “Ugh, I hope those guys got what they deserved.”

The older woman turns around and starts walking backwards with her hands clasped behind her, looking strangely amused at the terrible aggression suffered by her own daughter. “I think you’re getting the wrong idea, kids… They weren’t attacking her or anything, they were… um… How do I put it...? Do you know what flirting is?”

“Uuuh... Isn’t that when people get all chummy with... someone they like?” Phoebe responds, her forehead creasing.

“Yes, exactly! That’s what they were doing.”

“Did you really think they were—? Oh! No, no!” Ghira suddenly cackles joyfully, patting Damon’s knees with his massive hand. “If that were the case, the whole guard would’ve jumped on them before they so much as coughed in our baby’s direction. Probably for their own good with Yang around.”

“Not enough to save them from us, though,” Kali adds, smirking wickedly at her husband.

“Of course not.”

“Ohhhh, I see... So they were just trying to steal her away from Yang!” Damon says, feeling relieved and giggling into his hand.

“And she almost beat them up for that?” Phoebe deadpans before she turns around once more and starts to playfully kick the ground with each step. “Geez, talk about overreacting…”

Kali turns around as well, staring fondly at the girl’s antics. “Well… Blake is a bit of a celebrity back home. And she’s young and pretty, it’s not rare for people to fawn over her when they think our dear Goldilocks isn’t looking.”

“They’re brave, I’ll give them that!” Ghira roars.

“More than brave!” Damon nods. 

People in Menagerie must be really head over heels for Blake if they risk getting on her wife’s bad side just to get lovey-dovey with her. If the blonde can juggle a huge bear like it’s the most normal thing in the world, it’s not hard to imagine what she could do to normal people... Damon chuckles to himself, picturing some naive adventurers walking into an ancient castle in search of the faunus princess, only to come face to face with the angry golden dragon.

_Groooooooooowl_

A low rumbling sound suddenly interrupts their conversation, and three heads turn in unison to a rapidly blushing Phoebe, who keeps on walking as if nothing had happened.

“Are you hungry, Phoebe?” Ghira asks out loud, making the girl freeze and turn around slowly.

“U-Uh… Sorry, normally my belly doesn’t rumble until lunch… But ever since we started living with Yang and Blake…” she grimaces while scratching the back of her neck.

Damon smiles sympathetically, rubbing his own belly. “Yeah… They’re getting used to full meals every day, so they’ve become spoiled.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a mid-morning snack after a nice walk. As long as you two don’t skip lunch later, I wouldn’t mind going for a bite,” Ghira proposes with a shrug before glancing at his wife. “What do you say, dear?”

“A little break sounds wonderful,” Kali’s cat ears start twitching as she gazes into the distance with adorable pursed lips and standing on her tiptoes. “Wasn’t there a tavern in the village somewhere?”

“Yup, _The Maiden_! It’s in the town square,” Phoebe informs eagerly.

The woman looks down at her with a radiant smile, holding out her hand to the girl. “Great, you can lead the way then.”

His twin seems hesitant for a second, but she nonetheless ends up gripping their new grandmother’s hand with a sheepish grin and softly pulling her in the right direction. Ghira takes just a moment to adjust Damon on his shoulder and make sure he’s steady and soon follows after them.

They are welcomed by the usual sight of the small plaza shortly after, peacefully deserted except for a couple of villagers chatting on a bench next to the grocery store. Although Damon doesn’t know anyone by name, he pretty much knows every single one of their neighbours by sight from coming across them at some point in the past week. They notice the boy looking and wave at him, to which he responds by doing the same before they go back to their chit-chat; it’s a simple exchange between near complete strangers, but one that gives Himawari a nice sense of community.

The village may be just a bunch of houses scattered across the meadows, but it feels like they’re all connected through this little paved square: the tavern, the grocery store, Mrs. Mellivor… 

Wait... Mrs. Mellivor?!

Damon’s eyes go wide when the old lady suddenly comes out of the grocery store, her haggard semblance set in a seemingly perpetual frown. The boy wishes with all his heart that they’re able to cross the plaza without her noticing, but they stand out like a sore thumb, so her eyes are immediately drawn in their direction. He averts his gaze, hoping that the woman will simply glare at them from the distance and go about her business, but when he takes a peek from the corner of the eye, his heart skips a beat. The badger faunus is not just glaring, she's coming right to them!

"Guh…!" Phoebe notices her a bit too late and gasps, sharing a dreadful look with him. Ghira and Kali notice the woman approaching as well, but they —naively unaware of the danger— stop in their tracks and regard her with a friendly disposition.

Kali starts bowing her head. "Good morn—"

" _You_! You broke into my house!" the old lady shrieks, pointing a long bony finger at him —still on Ghira's shoulders—, then at Phoebe. "And _you_ ruined my daisies!"

His sister takes a step back and crashes into their adopted grandma, pale as a ghost. "W-What?"

Damon would say something if he could, but he's completely frozen in place. She knows! She knows they were in her house!

"I beg your pardon?" Kali interjects sternly, grabbing Phoebe's hand and standing between her and Mrs. Mellivor.

"I know it was you two and the Talanta girl! You made a mess of my kitchen while your sister distracted me by the entrance!" she goes on, eyes focusing once more on him. “I’ve been young too, boy, I know those tricks better than you.”

"U-Umm…" Damon stutters, struggling to find the words to get them out of this mess. But he's interrupted when Ghira raises his other hand to shield him away from her.

"Excuse me, ma’am, but who are you?" he asks in a deep tone, any trace of friendliness fading from his beastly voice.

The old woman turns her ferocious eyes away from him and adjusts her glasses to inspect Ghira from head to toe, then grumbles to herself and takes a step back, kicking her own black and white tail away so she doesn’t step on it. "Maple Mellivor... I'm one of your daughter's neighbours."

The fact that she knows who they are isn’t surprising —since Kali is basically like an older Blake and they seem to share the same fashion tastes—, but he has to give credit to the old lady who doesn't seem the slightest bit deterred in the face of a man who doubles her height. If anything, Mrs. Mellivor looks even more fierce than usual!

“Well, ma’am, can you prove that they did as you say? Did you see them?” Ghira asks calmly, although Damon can see that he’s tense by the way his jaw tightens.

“I saw them standing suspiciously in the middle of the square before returning home, and right as I started unpacking my groceries the girl appeared at my doorstep talking nonsense. She probably stepped on my daisies out of spite after I shut the door in her nose,” she glowers at Phoebe, who takes shelter behind Kali’s legs. “Meanwhile the boy and the other brat must’ve wrecked my kitchen. I heard noises upstairs shortly after but when I arrived they were already gone...”

“So you _didn’t_ actually see them do it,” Ghira points out, scowling even harder.

“What other explanation can there be?”

“A wild animal,” Kali retorts drily while crossing her arms, piercing the woman with a cold glare. “The village is in the middle of the fields and close to the forest, ma’am. A small animal could attack your garden and sneak into your house searching for food. That would also explain what happened to your kitchen and those noises you heard.”

“What?!” the look on Mrs. Mellivor’s face is equal parts disbelief and outrage. She shoots an accusing finger in Phoebe’s direction and exclaims, “That girl was at my doorstep, making stupid questions to stall for time, isn’t it obvious?!”

Blake’s mom hums to herself for a second before turning to look down at the girl behind her. “Phoebe, what did you ask Mrs. Mellivor?”

“I…” his sister starts, eyes darting left and right before they suddenly widen, “I asked her about her tail! I-I just wanted to know what kind of faunus she is, that’s all.”

“Huh, I would hardly call that ‘nonsense’, ma’am,” Ghira declares, mouth set in a hard line and fuzzy brows furrowed. “That kind of question may be out of place for an adult, but this is a child we’re talking about, and a faunus. She’s just curious about her kin, nothing else. I don’t think it deserves getting a door shoved in her face, honestly.”

“Where were the other two, then?” Mrs. Mellivor snarls, eyeing Damon once more. “You were together only five minutes earlier, but only the girl showed up at my door. What were _you_ doing during that, boy?”

Her sharp gaze pierces him to the core and makes him unable to speak. His heart starts beating faster as he unconsciously fidgets with his hands, racking his brains between lying or telling the truth. He did break into her house... he did make a mess of her kitchen… he rummaged through her belongings and —even though she believes it was Phoebe— _he_ was the one to crush her flowers. 

...

There’s no way to know what will happen. It’s entirely possible that she’ll get mad whether he lies or not, but if he confesses… he’d be selling out Phoebe and Aster as well, and they would all be scolded again because of him.

“Damon,” Kali says softly, giving him an encouraging nod that makes him relax a little. 

He really doesn’t want to lie to Blake’s parents... they don’t deserve it...

“W-We dared her to do it…”

… but there’s no way he’s bringing his sister and his friend down with him. Not a chance. They’ve gone through enough already.

The corner of Mrs. Mellivor’s eyes crinkles. “You… what?”

“A-A challenge… We were really curious about what kind of faunus you are, so we drew straws to see which one of us would ask you about it. Phoebe lost… so she had to do it while we watched from afar,” he explains nervously, not brave enough to look into the old lady’s eyes and focusing on Kali’s calm expression instead. “We don’t know anything about the kitchen… or the flowers. I...” he makes a pause to digest his own words, “I promise.”

The cat faunus stares at him for a few agonizing seconds, her deep golden eyes just as intense as Mrs. Mellivor’s dark ones, before she finally breaks into a gentle smile. “Then the only thing they’re guilty of is being a bit rude, right dear?”

“Indeed. Nothing an honest apology won’t solve, I hope,” Ghira offers, giving the old lady a steely look. Mrs. Mellivor remains silent, her face set in stone and keeping her scrutinizing gaze on Damon —as if trying to look right through his skull—, until she gives a slow nod. “Very well. Kids? What do you have to say?”

The pressure of her stare is enough for Damon to lower his head and shift on the man’s shoulder, but he swallows the knot in his throat and mumbles, “Sorry, Mrs. Mellivor… We meant no harm…”

And he really means it, even if for a completely different reason.

“Yeah, we didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable… Sorry,” Phoebe follows, her masterful fake apology —polished after years of mischief and visits to the Headmistress’ office— sounding just as genuine.

“Yes... of course...” the old lady mutters, shaking her head and giving them all one last look —although her eyes linger on him a bit longer than the rest— before turning away with a sigh.

“Have a nice morning, and apologies for the inconvenience, Mrs. Mellivor,” Kali answers back while bowing her head, even when the woman has already turned her back to them. Once Mrs. Mellivor disappears inside her house, Blake’s mom exhales and glances at them with a half smile. “Well… that was something.”

“Are you joking? I’ve met faunus extremists with far less backbone. She’s frightening for her age,” Ghira adds, his shoulders losing some of their previous stiffness.

“She really is.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe we had to apologize for being rude when she’s the nosiest one around here,” Phoebe groans, giving the two adults an incredulous look. “She’s always super impolite with Blake too.... Didn’t she tell you about her?”

“Blake is used to dealing with… negative attitudes. If she never mentioned her, it's probably not a big deal for her. She’s a tough cookie," the man shrugs off. “But anyway, you better be careful about what you say in front of that woman, kids. Faunus heritage can be a touchy subject for some people.”

Phoebe crosses her arms, glaring in the old lady’s direction. “I can’t stand her...”

“Come on, let’s forget about this, shall we?” Kali quickly waves her hand dismissively —her cat ears perking up— before taking Phoebe’s once more. “You’re still up for a snack?”

“Yup, I really need to bite something right now!” the girl exclaims, making her adopted grandma smirk.

“How about you, Damon?” Ghira asks him, giving the boy a little shake.

…

“Damon?”

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah,” he blurts, snapping out of his trance and tearing his eyes from the old lady’s house. There’s a strange, heavy feeling inside his chest that won’t go away, but he tries to push it down and puts up a tiny smile. “I’m in!”

  


* * *

**TURNING THE TABLES**

“You sure about this, Ghira?” Yang asks defiantly while cracking her knuckles.

Right after lunch, the entire family went out to the backyard to enjoy the cool fresh air mixed with the gentle sunlight of the Mistralian evenings; probably one of the kingdom’s best traits, in her humble opinion. Blake and Kali are having a cup of tea on the porch with Damon sitting comfortably between them —helping himself to their tray of pastries—, the three watching closely as the show unfolds in front of them.

A tumbleweed rolls in the distance… or at least that’s what Yang pictures in her mind.

Blake’s dad approaches her, carrying a massive boulder as big as his chest before dropping it at her feet without so much as breaking a sweat. He kneels at the other side of the rock —something that makes him just slightly shorter than her despite being standing, unsurprisingly— and glances up at her, smirking ferociously.

“Stop asking and get on your knees, _daughter_ ,” he growls, rolling up his left sleeve and revealing a mass of bulking muscle. “No matter what happens, I’m taking down at least one Xiao Long this spring.”

The blonde grins eagerly at her in-law’s taunt and drops on her knees, facing him. “You wish, old man,” she sneers, removing her jacket and slamming her left elbow on the rock. “Phoebe! Get this show rolling!”

“Leave it to me!” The faunus girl hops right next to them and climbs on top of the rock, holding a small branch close to her mouth as a mic. “Ladies and brothers! We’re gathered here today for the battle of the century! The duel that will crown one of these warriors as the Strongest Arm of the entire Universe!”

“Woohoooo!”

“Yeaaaah!”

Kali and Damon start clapping and cheering out loud, while Blake watches with an embarrassed little smile with her head propped up on the table, probably happy that there’s enough distance between houses for no one else to hear all this ruckus. In Menagerie, the Belladonnas are forced to maintain a certain image in front of their citizens, but here they can give full rein to their silliness without worrying about who might be looking; and it seems like her parents enjoy it far more than poor little Blakey.

“Now, the rules are simple! If you move your right arm from your back, you lose! If you get up off your knees, you lose! If you spit or burp in your opponent’s face, you lose!” Phoebe counts enthusiastically, raising fingers in the air for each rule.

“What the—?! Where did that last one come from?!” Yang snaps, half-amused half-disgusted.

“I’ve seen many things in all my years as an arm-wrestling judge, ma'am! You can never be too prudent!”

Yang starts cackling, her facade crumbling momentarily. “In all your years?!”

“Shush! There’s only one more rule!” the corners of her mouth twist into a wicked smirk. “Both contestants are allowed to speak and taunt as much as they want! This match isn’t just to prove their physical strength, but also their mental resistance as well!” she then jumps down from the rock and stands aside, gesturing to them like a pro showman. “Are you ready?!”

“Ho-ho! You’re going down, big man.” Yang smiles from ear to ear, wiggling her fingers.

“I’ve had calluses bigger than you, girl! Let’s do this!” Ghira roars heartily, clasping her hand with his massive claw. Feeling the pressure —albeit weakly—, she immediately tightens her grip and hides her mechanical arm behind her back, her gaze focused on her in-law’s challenging eyes.

Phoebe cups both their hands, eyeing each contestant briefly. “Aaaaaaaand… Begin!”

The second the girl lets go, Yang’s entire left arm almost gets pulled out of its socket by the man’s monstrous strength. In an instant, she tenses up and her muscles become as taut as a bowstring. Breathing slowly… in and out… she feels the heat rushing through her veins as she draws out her Semblance’s power by pure mental focus, something she forced herself to master many years ago. Its effects are far weaker than when it’s fueled by rage, but the boost is enough to endure Ghira’s brute force… for now.

When she opens her eyes, they’re shining red. Her arm slowly recovers some ground by pushing his rival’s until they’re both stuck in the middle again.

“You’re using your Semblance already? What? Feeling a little sluggish?” Ghira clicks his tongue while shaking his head. “Seems like the years are finally catching up with you…”

He inadvertently pushes a little harder, no doubt hoping his little taunt would make her lower her guard. She snickers instead, holding her ground. “Really, Ghira? _You_ of all people are gonna use the age card against me? Really?!”

“I mean, those grey hairs weren’t there the last time I saw you,” he frowns, glancing at her forehead.

Her eyes snap wide open.

“Those wha—?! Argh!” she shrieks.

This time her arm gets yanked to the left like a mousetrap, and only her quick reflexes manage to keep it a few inches away from touching the rock. Ghira leans to his right, trying to put all of his weight into his arm, his cunning visage set in a toothy grin. Yang tries in vain to draw more power from her Semblance, but she’s reached the limit of how much she can use. It doesn’t help that Ghira always sticks his taunts to harmless stuff instead of trying to really get under her skin, effectively denying her of achieving her full strength; he’s too much of a softie sometimes... but in this kind of match it’s actually useful.

“You got her, Ghira! She’s yours!” Kali yells, brimming with excitement.

“Don’t give up, Yang! You can do it!” Damon’s worried voice comes right after, rooting for her.

By this point, Yang can feel all the blood rushing to her head, and even a few veins popping out in her forehead as she struggles to maintain her hand in the air against the overwhelming force of the manbeast. She’s against the wall, forced to be on the defensive… and the longer she stays like this, the faster she’s going to get tired. She needs to turn the tables, she needs to find a way to make him falter or she’s going to be toast in a few seconds!

Well… he may be a softie, but Yang isn’t scared to play hard.

“Phoebe, cover your ears!” she orders, eyes still locked on their hands.

“What? Why?” the girl groans.

“I said cover your ears! A-And don’t stop until I tell you! That’s, argh—! That’s an order!”

“Okay, okay, geez… But I’m keeping my eye on you!”

Ghira watches the exchange and smiles knowingly at the blonde, his own forehead pulsating with tremendous effort. “B-Bringing out the artillery, aren’t you?”

“Whatever’s necessary,” she smirks obstinately. “S-So… let’s talk about sizes. I’ve always wondered, is it directly or inversely p-proportional to your height? Are we t-talking Beowulf’s arm or canned pickle?”

He simply laughs, unfaced. “W-Wouldn’t _you_ like to know, child?”

“I-I mean… With all the time I’ve lived with you, I’ve n-never seen Kali limping around or anything, soooo… I guess it’s more on the pickle side.”

“We’ve been to the b-beach quite a few times, dear. Have you e-ever seen me wearing shorts?” he asks all of a sudden, throwing her off a little.

“Huh… N-No, I don’t think so. Why do you—?” she stops herself —seeing his smug face—, and then gets it. It takes Yang a colossal effort not to burst out laughing right there, but she manages to reduce her outburst to a few chuckles while still keeping her hand above the boulder. “Wow, y-you weren’t like this when we met, Ghira. Blake is right, I really am a b-bad influence.”

“U-Unfortunately for you,” he continues, pushing down even harder, “that means you can’t win, dear. Try to embarrass me as hard as you want, but you’re still going down.”

He’s right… If they go by pure strength alone, Yang doesn’t stand a chance against him. The core of her strategy was about psychological warfare to best a physically superior opponent, but if he just shrugs off or even counters her taunts, then she’s screwed. That’s unless she figures out a way to make him flinch, something even he would never expect, something… that has nothing to do with him.

Something like...

“Can I stop already? This isn’t as fun if I can’t hear you jab at each other,” Phoebe complains loudly, pouting and tapping her feet with her ears still covered.

Yang shakes her head vehemently, unwilling to taint the girl’s innocence at such a young age. Staring back at Ghira, she sees the triumph shining in his eyes as her hand draws near to the rock, and decides that it’s worth a shot.

“S-So… Ghira…”

“Yeah…?”

“Have I ever told you that Kali turns me on?”

In an instant, the oppressive force crushing her arm vanishes, along with Ghira’s smirk. Damn… If only they weren’t arm wrestling, Yang would take out her scroll and capture that hilarious expression for all eternity —and for a moment she actually considers throwing the match just for that—, but she quickly chooses against it in favour of appeasing her competitive spirit. So, clenching her teeth and tightening her muscles, Yang squeezes what little drops of power she can out of her Semblance and violently jerks the man’s arm in the opposite direction, smashing his hand against the rock in a deafening blast and blowing half of it to smithereens.

“Booyah! I won!” she screams, standing up and throwing her fists in the air, earning a round of applause from their spectators.

“W-Wait, wait! What happened?! What did you tell him?!” Phoebe asks while uncovering her ears, glancing between them with a puzzled look. In response, Yang simply puts up a smirk and ruffles her hair before walking past her to bath in the loving compliments of her fans. “Hey, Yang! Wait! Tell me! Yang!”

Behind them, Ghira remains frozen in place, staring at the empty space in front of him like a statue with his mouth agape.

  


* * *

**THE END OF A DREAM**

The next morning Phoebe wakes up to a very familiar smell. 

This past week had been an overwhelming aromatic experience for both of them since, being springtime, the air is usually loaded with pollen —to which, thankfully, neither were allergic— and, most importantly, a mixture of scents from all kinds of plants and flowers. With them being used to the smell of concrete and Dust smoke from the city traffic, it’s an understatement to say they were both blown away.

But it wasn’t the smell of flowers she noticed when she first opened her eyes. Actually, the smell wasn’t even the first thing she noticed, but the constant rattling against the window. After all, just like flowers and pollen, rain was also a very common occurrence during spring.

“This sucks…” she whines weakly, staring at the torrent pouring outside the window with her head plopped on top of the couch. It’s not a bad view, really, with the usual bright emerald pastures now looking a soggy and deeper shade of green, but it’s boring. “What a nice way to start the spring break, stuck inside…”

“I don’t mind at all...” her twin croons, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course you don’t,” Phoebe shoots back, glancing at him at the other end of the couch. 

Since Blake is busy making sure all of her businesses are in order before they leave, and Yang is getting the old man’s weapons ready for delivery, Ghira and Kali are just chilling in the living room with the twins, immersed in their reading. And poor little Damon is lying there with his head resting on Kali’s lap, the woman holding her book with one hand and running her fingers through his hair with the other.

“Ugh, I can’t take this yawn factory anymore!” she exclaims, jumping down from the couch and walking past the trio.

“Don’t disturb Blake, Phoebe. She has a lot on her hands right now,” Ghira softly scolds her —peeking at the girl over his reading glasses— when her hand is an inch away from the study’s doorknob.

“I wasn’t going to disturb her, I just wanted to see what she’s doing…” Phoebe pouts, cupping her cheeks and stretching them downwards in an exaggerated grimace. “I’m sooooooo bored. ”

Kali glances at her briefly without stopping her ministrations to the boy and suggests, “Why don’t you accompany Yang to the city? Driving under the rain is an amazing experience.” 

The girl sighs, hunching over in disappointment. “We’re grounded until we leave… They only allowed us to go out yesterday because you were coming too…”

“In that case,” the man smiles from ear to ear, taking off his glasses and closing his book, “as long as I go too there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Really?!” she yells before quickly cutting herself off. “Ah! Huh, I mean… Don’t you wanna stay here and read?”

Ghira shakes his head, stretching his massive arms and leaving the book on the table. “No, it’s okay, I’m tired of being cooped up in here as well. Come on, let’s go see Yang.”

“Nice! You guys wanna come?” she asks, turning to look at Damon and Kali.

“Mmhm…” Her twin stirs a little bit, but otherwise remains unperturbed, enjoying the comfort of their adopted grandmother’s lap. 

Kali lowers her ears with an apologetic smile and whispers, “It’s okay, I don’t think it’s wise to let him walk outside with this weather, anyway. Be careful you don’t slip, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Don’t worry, honey. See you later,” Ghira says, lowering his voice as well. After giving Kali a quick kiss, he turns around and nods at Phoebe, then both of them set off to talk to Yang.

Twenty minutes later they’re on their way to Mistral, and Phoebe finds herself agreeing with Kali’s statement; driving under the rain really is something else. The raindrops continuously hitting against the car create a peculiar melody that envelops her, and although the rhythm is chaotic, the sound is strangely soothing… She’s strong enough to resist, but if Damon had tagged along she’s sure he would’ve ended up falling asleep.

By the time they arrive in the lower districts, the downpour is even more intense, reaching that point when there are so many droplets and falling so fast that they turn into a glassy curtain covering everything in sight. After Yang parks her car, Ghira offers to carry the weapon cases. It would seem a bit rude to accept if it was any other person, but their adopted grandpa is as massive as a wardrobe and can fit both under one arm with no problem, leaving the other free to hold his umbrella. As for Phoebe, since she doesn't have one of her own yet, she walks hand in hand with Yang under hers.

“It’s been a while since it rained like this,” the blonde comments, staring off into the cloaked skies. She —just like Ghira and Phoebe— is wearing a thick coat, but the girl can’t stop glancing and grinning at the pigtails cascading over her chest; it’s easier to keep her hair away from the rain like that, she knows, but it’s still funny. “It was about time.”

“Aren’t you tired of it after living in Menagerie for so long?” Ghira asks next to her, a tinge of humor in his voice.

Yang chuckles. “Please, this little drizzle has nothing on those tropical storms."

“Heh, that’s true.”

Drizzle? It's pouring hell itself over their heads and this is a drizzle?! Geez, she dreads to imagine what kind of storms are typical of Menagerie...

“I’ve never looked forward to rainy days,” Phoebe chimes in, stomping on every little puddle on the sidewalk.

“Don’t have a thing for water, little one?” Ghira asks, his head completely out of her sight behind Yang's umbrella.

“It’s not the water... Living in the orphanage, we never played outside that much, so the weather didn’t really matter to us,” the girls says, shrugging. “But once we ran away it was a different story. We always had to be on the lookout for shelter on cloudy days," she sighs just by thinking about it, "it was a real bother."

"I can imagine…"

"This has to feel weird, I guess. Standing out here without having to worry about anything," Yang squeezes her hand, smiling merrily at the view around them.

Phoebe cocks her head —not having put too much thought on it—, but she’s right, it’s weird. Walking under the rain unafraid of catching a cold thanks to her coat, stepping on puddles without worrying about getting her feet wet thanks to her boots… it’s certainly liberating. It’s a shame Damon is hurt, she would’ve liked to share this experience with him... but that’s okay, they have plenty of time.

“It’s nice,” she finally responds with a wide grin.

They continue to walk through the water-drenched streets, crossing what little people are wandering around on the way to the weaponsmith and dodging the usual driver who’s in too much of a hurry to care about the poor passersby they might soak to the bones.

Oh, how much she hates those…

Arriving at the rickety shop hidden in the small back alley, the trio put away their umbrellas and step inside, feeling the warmth of hot metal and roaring machinery welcome them. The old man is exactly in the same spot they left him a week ago, right behind the front desk, but this time he’s not alone.

“Take a look. I cleaned the components and sharpened the blade this morning,” says the customer —a woman— who’s with him, holding a weird sword over the counter.

The soot-covered man caresses his red beard and nods. “Yeah, looks as good as new,” roaming his eyes all over the blade, he suddenly notices their presence and perks up, raising a meaty hand. “Hey, blonde! I was startin’ to think you’d forgotten about me!”

“Thanks, Bob! It’s nice to see my boss is already showing this much confidence in me!” Yang retorts from the entrance, cackling out loud while tapping her feet to get rid of the excess water; Phoebe and Ghira immediately do the same.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the water, come in. I’ll be with ya in a minute,” he responds drily, ignoring her jab and turning once more to the customer. The woman doesn’t even look in their direction and simply goes on about the weapon in her hands.

Ghira takes the first step into the shop as he wipes off the little droplets attached to his coat, glancing around like a curious kid. “So, this is going to be your job from now on?”

“Yup. But I’m not going full hermit-blacksmith like old Vulcan there, trapped in his little dark cave,” she answers, sniffing the air and making a grimace, “with no air freshener, ugh. I’m gonna be the cool blacksmith working in her garage with the door open to the world, in harmony with nature. Just wait, in a few years people from all over Remnant will travel to Himawari just to get a custom weapon made by yours truly. I’ll become a legend,” she boasts, puffing out her chest. “Ruby will be _so_ jealous...”

“Your sister? Aka the supposed ‘best Huntress in the world’?” Phoebe ponders out loud with a sneer, making air quotations. “Oh yeah, she’s gonna be burning with jealousy.”

It’s a bit mean considering the whole ‘giving up on being a Huntress to stay with them’ situation, and Phoebe doesn’t really want to hurt her feelings or anything. But if she’s learned something in the past week, it's that Yang likes playing rough. And so does she.

It backfires faster than she anticipated, though.

“No one likes _cheeky_ know-it-alls, Phoebe,” Yang quips with a wide fake smile, pinching the girl’s cheek with her robot hand.

“Ouch! O-Okay, I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry!” she yelps while flapping her arms around.

“You better humor her before she starts twisting, girl,” Ghira adds, smiling from the sidelines.

“N-No! You’re g-gonna be famous! Superfamous! Ack, stop! Please!”

The blonde bends over and asks in a playful manner, “Sorry, what did you say? I’m gonna be what?”

“I need the money, okay?! Just tell me how much it’s worth and let's get this over with!”

The sudden shout startles them, and Phoebe starts caressing her face as soon as Yang lets go, but no cocky comment comes out of her. Their eyes are now locked on the weaponsmith and his customer, and the sudden awkward atmosphere that’s starting to float around the shop. The man doesn’t seem shocked at all by the strange outburst, however, and when the woman leans on the counter, trembling, he puts a hand on her shoulder as naturally as Phoebe does with Damon.

“C’mon, lass… There’s gotta be somethin’ you can do,” he mutters quietly, trying to look her in the eyes, but his words only make her chuckle sarcastically.

“Yeah… Give up and find something else, just like my father says,” she sniffles, rubbing her face with the sleeve of her coat. “I heard they need farm labourers in the west… It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

This feels like something private, something they shouldn’t be listening to, but it’s not like they can just cover their ears; this is a shop and they’re customers too. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, Phoebe glances at Yang, but the blonde seems just as uncomfortable as her, trying her best to look away and pretend she’s not listening.

“Listen to me, it’s not the end of the world. Ya need to see this as a new chapter of yer life… I was in the business for thirty-five years, and when I retired, I thought it’d be the end. But it wasn’t,” the bearded man smiles in a fatherly manner, tapping her shoulder. “I found somethin’ that made me just as happy as killin’ Grimm. It’ll be the same for ya, trust me.”

“Thirty-five… I haven’t even been in this for ten, Bob, and yet...” she sobs, but just a second later takes a deep breath and stands up, wiping her face. “Thanks, I know you’re just trying to help, but… This was my dream since I was a girl, and now it’s gone. And I can’t even be mad because the whole world is a better place _because_ of it,” the old man stares back at her with a desolate expression, but can’t seem to find the right words to offer. “So… How much can you give me?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but eventually sighs and produces a handful of lien cards from under the desk, it's more money than Phoebe has seen together in her entire life. “This isn’t a purchase, ya hear? I’ll hold onto it until you come to take it back. A weapon should always stay with their Huntsman, no matter what.”

“I appreciate it, Bob. Thank you... for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. And take care.”

After taking the money, the woman leans in and touches the man's sharp cheekbone with her lips —he can do little more than smile regretfully in return— before shoving her hands in her pockets and turning towards the exit. She stops halfway, though, the dark circles under her eyes standing out as these widen in shock when she notices the trio there. Is she embarrassed because they overheard their conversation? No... There's no way she didn't know they were there, the old man himself greeted them when they arriv—

...

Wait…

"Y-You are…" Phoebe mumbles, her whole body tensing.

The Huntress, the same one that almost started a fight with Yang a couple days ago, glances at the two of them, equally shocked to see them here. Her expression shifts, a mix between confusion and rage, and for a moment Phoebe believes she's about to finish what they started last time. Instead, the woman bites her lip and lowers her tired eyes to the ground.

"Excuse me," she quickly blurts, her voice breaking as she simply walks past them and leaves the store in a hurry.

Phoebe can only watch as the door closes behind her, still unable to process what happened. A quick peek at Yang reveals that she’s not as befuddled as her —or at least she doesn’t appear to be—, her stance relaxed despite her crestfallen expression.

“Do you… know her?” Ghira asks them carefully, reading the situation.

Phoebe is about to respond, but Yang beats her to it, “Just someone we crossed the other day. She was… looking for work at Haven.”

“Oh…”

“You can see how well that went,” the old man calls from the counter, gesturing at them to get closer as he inspects the weapon he just acquired.

When they step closer, Ghira leans on the counter with his jaw clenched. “I thought the Colonies expanding again would make things a little better for the Huntsmen community.”

“Not even the Colonies are big enough to keep four academies worth of Huntsmen employed,” Yang shakes her head next to him, growling under her breath.

“How about mercenary work? With less Grimm and more bandits roaming the outlying roads, there has to be more demand.”

The weaponsmith shrugs, drumming his fingers on the blade. “Problem is, you don’t need mercenaries protecting you from bandits to know how long it takes a Boarbatusk to recover from a charge, how to ground a Nevermore or how to lure and ambush a Death Stalker. Why pay for someone unnecessarily well-trained when you can hire a couple morons with Aura to do the job for a quarter of the money?” the corners of his mouth crinkle. “I mean… There are probably people out there who will, but not many.”

“Can’t they just… ask for less?” Phoebe wonders out loud while standing on her tiptoes, glancing between Yang and the old smith; it’s not like one needs an insane amount of money to survive, she knows that better than most.

“It’s not that simple, Phoebe…” Yang says with a grimace.

The old man chuckles roughly, propping his head to stare back at her. “We Huntsmen are a complicated bunch, girl. We may be ‘guardians’, but we’re just as arrogant as the next guy. I could’ve become a mercenary myself, but I refuse to get paid the same as some knucklehead who doesn’t know the difference between each end of a sword.”

“But… then you’re just giving up…”

“Well… knowin’ when to give up is an important part of life. That lass wasn’t the first to come here to give up on her dream, and she won’t be the last,” he points out, picking up the sword and turning it in his hands with a vacant expression. “The End of Huntsmen began when the Grimm Queen kicked the bucket, in a few decades all of us will become nothing more than legends...”

None of them says anything for a while, and eventually the man simply changes the topic to his business partnership with Yang as if that talk never happened, but Phoebe can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the visit, not even after they leave the shop.

She grew up hearing the stories about the brave monster-slaying heroes, like most kids her age, and even though she’d never met one, they were always a constant in her life, a role model, something to aspire to. Her infatuation started to fade when she faced the crudeness of the world after she ran away with her twin, and after everything she’s experienced in the past week she can honestly say that they’re far from the paladin-like figures the media paint them as; Blake and Yang are extraordinary, but that has nothing to do with them being Huntresses. And their visit to Haven Academy only served to further make her realize just how broken and vulnerable —for the lack of a better word— most of them are.

However, that doesn’t stop the growing knot in her stomach to appear each time she remembers the old man’s bitter declaration.

The End of Huntsmen…

  


* * *

**GRANDMA KNOWS BEST**

Damon wakes up to a not so very familiar smell, aromatic and full of little shades like a basket of flowers; it reminds him a bit of Blake, but where her scent is faint and gentle, this one is far more fragrant and intense. As he stirs and yawns, the warm pillow beneath him moves as well, startling him.

“Enjoying yourself?” a gentle voice asks.

“Mmhm?”

He rubs the drowsiness off his eyes and the blurry figure in his vision slowly turns into Kali, smiling down at him with a book in her hand, while the other caresses his scalp so tenderly that he barely even noticed it. That’s right... he was lying on the couch with his head on her lap while their adoptive grandparents read, the four of them stuck inside because of the rain. It felt so nice that...

“Ah, I-I fell asleep on you, s-sorry...” he blushes, trying to get off her, but the woman pushes him back down.

“It’s alright, you didn’t bother me. Quite the opposite,” she giggles, putting down her book and staring at him with a delighted look. “It brings back memories…”

The boy tilts his head. “Memories?”

“Yeah, I used to do this with Blake when she was little.”

Damon relaxes once more, her delicate petting threatening to make him fall asleep again. His eyelids are still heavy, but his curiosity manages to keep him awake. “Really?”

“Hm mh, I read her dozens of books like this. She lying on my lap, me petting her ears and reading out loud… It was our private time away from the stress of the rallies…” Kali smiles with her eyes closed, as if imagining the head of a smaller Blake beneath her hand.

“It’s hard to imagine her like that,” Damon chuckles, briefly closing his eyes as well and leaning into her touch. The Blake he knows is so responsible and mature that picturing her as a toddler enjoying head rubs is kind of weird.

“She became all proper and reserved when puberty hit her, but trust me, she was _really_ needy at your age. Just don’t let her know I said that, okay? It’ll be our secret,” she proposes.

“I won’t say a thing,” he nods, her contagious grin spreading to him. It’s then that he remembers they’re not alone and glances around the room, only to find his sister and Ghira nowhere to be found.

“They left with Yang an hour ago,” Kali says, following his eyes.

Oh, right, he recalls Phoebe pacing around the room and complaining about being bored. He should’ve let her enjoy this as well, he’s sure she would have surrendered to the woman’s touch in a second just like him.

“So… I slept on you for an hour?” Now he feels even worse...

“You _didn’t_ bother me,” she repeats, rolling her eyes.

He’s still not convinced, but he accepts her reassurance and relaxes once more.

These past few days they’ve been surrounded by so much warmth, met people who’ve given them so much selfless love and care that his heart can barely contain it. He can close his eyes and feel safe, knowing that someone is watching over them, and that is probably the best feeling of all. He just hopes that, in time, he’ll be able to give back at least a small fraction of everything they’ve been given…

Suddenly, he notices that the smile has vanished from the woman’s face, replaced by a worried frown.

“Kali? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on her lap.

“I just… I wanted to talk with you about something, Damon.”

“Oh. Sure... anything.”

“I’ve… I’ve only known you and Phoebe for two days, and that’s probably not enough time for me to, um… how to say it,” she bites her lower lip, eyes downcast, “to have the right to get involved in your education. But still, I am your grandmother and I want to help you in any way I can, if I have the chance.”

“Okay…?”

This is clearly difficult for her, judging by the way she sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose, but Damon has no clue about what she could be so distressed about. After a few seconds, she takes a deep breath and looks down at him with a nervous expression.

“I know you lied to Mrs. Mellivor.”

...

The boy keeps staring at her, her words not truly sinking in until he repeats them in his mind one more time. His face contorts, horrified, but before he even tries to sit up and find the words to respond —his mouth quivering nervously—, Kali goes on.

“It’s okay, I’m not angry. Ghira and I went along with it, remember?” she says, lowering her voice to a whisper.

…

Damon stays in that awkward position, half-propped up on his elbows and looking her in the eyes for quite a few seconds before his shock recedes and gives way to shame. “H-How… How did you know?” he asks as he finally sits up, unable to look his adoptive grandma in the eyes.

A tiny amused grin flashes through Kali’s face. “Well… It was a convincing story, but you’re not very good at lying.” He unconsciously steals a glance at Blake’s study across the living room and the woman follows his gaze. “Don’t worry, we're not going to tell her.”

He’s not sure he even wants to ask but… “Why?”

“For one, we think Yang and her had enough with what happened to Phoebe the other day. They’re still new to parenting, we don’t want them to get overwhelmed this early,” her mouth curves in concern. “But also because we don’t think you and your sister would be capable of something like that, at least not without good reason,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “So first of all, I want to hear it from you, Damon. The truth.”

Despite her understanding stance, Damon still can’t look at her, but he nods to let her know he’ll comply.

“Did you really sneak into her house?”

“Yes…” his voice comes out brittle.

He hears her sigh, but her hand keeps gently rubbing his shoulder, encouraging him. “Why?”

With the dam already open, Damon tells her everything. How they didn’t just find the little boar and hide it in Aster’s house as they had told the grown-ups, but instead had to chase it around the village… resulting in the animal sneaking into the old lady’s property without her noticing. How Phoebe had distracted her while he and Aster broke in through the window, like Mrs. Mellivor herself had deduced. How they ended up ruining her groceries while trying to catch the piggy, rummaged through her belongings looking for it, and finally their hasty escape through the window.

“The window? Do you know how danger—?” Kali whisper-shouts, but cuts herself mid sentence, her eyes getting drawn to his bandaged ankle and making the connection. Her face darkens immediately, unable to hide her concern. “Oh, my… Did you really fall from that height?”

"No, no! I was more than halfway down when I slipped… And I even fell on a bed of flowers,” he quickly explains, watching the woman’s shoulders loosen up a little bit.

“Thank the gods you weren’t badly hurt…”

He nods wordlessly again.

“So, that thing about the flowers... that was also you, technically.”

He shrinks even more. “Yeah…”

Recounting all of that doesn’t really help him feel better about it but, fortunately, it doesn’t make him feel worse either; he’s had enough time to let those thoughts boil, they can’t get any more bad than they already are. However, sharing it with an adult seems to help lift a bit of that burden off his shoulders, since that makes one more person he doesn’t have to lie to…

After staying silent for what feels like an eternity, Kali tilts his face upwards.

“What you did was careless, and I can’t stress enough how wrong it is to break into someone’s house uninvited,” her severe expression starts to soften. “But I knew you wouldn’t do something like that just to get back at that lady for being rude to Blake.”

“You’re not… angry then?”

“You risked getting caught and reprimanded because you were worried about that little boar. If we don’t take into consideration all the law-breaking involved,” the corner of her lips curve into an amused grin, “I’d say it was a very noble thing to do,” then she frowns, raising a finger in his face. “But you must _never_ do something like that again, understood? Breaking into someone’s home or trying to climb down the side of a house, especially the climbing down part! If you ever find yourself in that situation again, tell Blake or Yang.”

“Okay…”

“Promise me.”

“I-I will, I promise,” Damon nods with a weak smile before he grows silent for a second. Despite getting it out of his chest, his mind keeps going back to yesterday, to that haunting last look Mrs. Mellivor gave him. “You think she knows? That I lied.”

Kali exhales, her expression conflicted. “I don’t think you fooled her either, no. However, your story didn’t have any flaws, and she didn’t actually see you, so... as much as she wants to argue, she probably knows she can’t prove anything.” 

“But if she knows, maybe she’ll be even more grouchy with us from now on,” Damon’s mouth twists at that thought.

“It’s likely.”

“And… maybe she’ll be even _more_ rude to Blake!”

“Maybe...”

…

“I have to tell her the truth...” he concludes eventually with a wry face.

That answer seems to be the one Kali was hoping for, because she smiles ruefully and cups his cheek. “Doing the right thing is not always easy, Damon, but it’s a sign of maturity. The fact that you’re willing to do it for your family’s sake is something to be proud of,” she declares. “And that old lady is really scary, so that’s double points.”

“She really is.” He chuckles, the disgusting feeling in his gut getting a little bit better. “I’m gonna have to find a way to tell her, whenever she looks at me I get petrified...”

“Don’t rush it. Think it over the next few weeks while you enjoy the festival,” Kali offers. “And listen, if you’re too nervous to face her on your own, just call us and we'll be here in a blink! I think Ghira is already trying to find gaps in our schedule to come again as soon as we can…"

"Really? You don't mind going with me?" he asks, eyes brimming with hope. “You’re not scared of her?”

Kali sneers, her ears pointing up and puffing out her chest. “She may be scary, but I dare her to point one of those bony fingers at my little grandkids again. I’ll defend you with teeth and claws! Rawr!” she snarls, posing like a beast.

Damon laughs at her silly impression and takes a breath, feeling much better than before. “Thanks, Kali.”

The woman leans back on the couch and starts running her fingers through his hair again, and although he closes his eyes soon after, he can almost feel the radiance of her smile. “What is family for?”

He’s still afraid of confronting the old lady with the truth, but it won’t stop him from doing the right thing for the people he cares about.

  


* * *

**THE BLACK SHEEP IN THE FAMILY**

The evening is as lively as the previous two, and Blake —for all of her initial anxiousness— finds herself enjoying it far more than she imagined. Dinners with Yang and her parents back in Menagerie were nice and calm, usually filled with stories from her wife’s assignments, stuff about the FIS or just small talk about their day to day. But Phoebe and Damon spark something within them just by being there, and suddenly they joke, tease and laugh like they haven’t done since the old days of team RWBY.

She’s not sure if it’s because they’re children and they somehow reawaken the youthful spirit of the adults around them, but whatever it is, it’s more than welcomed.

Carrying the two cups of freshly brewed tea, Blake walks into the living room and faces a familiar picture, but with different characters. Her parents are sitting across the table, facing the twins in a match of that board game they played a week ago. Or at least getting ready to play, since her dad keeps inspecting every inch of the cardboard box for some reason.

“Ghira, the game is more than ten years old. They probably don’t even have a customer support service anymore…" her mom sighs, drumming her fingers on the table impatiently.

"Nonsense, I'm sure I can pull some strings to get a talk with the developing team," he grumbles, not relenting in his effort.

"Oh, dear…"

“What’s wrong?” Blake asks as she passes by.

Phoebe, who’s fiddling distraitfully with the plastic miniatures, says, “Ghira doesn’t want to play with Atlas. I’m telling you, I don’t mind—”

“ _No_ ,” Damon chides, slumped on his seat and staring at the ceiling.

“Killjoy…”

“Your father is upset because there’s no—,” her mom explains, stopping briefly to massage her temples, “because there’s no ‘Menagerie’ faction.”

Blake lets out a little snort, her shoulders shaking as she tries not to spill the tea.

“It’s outrageous!” the man exclaims, getting red in the face like a child throwing a tantrum. “How can you call it ‘REMNANT - THE GAME’ and just forget an entire continent like that?! We’re on the world map just like the others, but we’re not playable?!” He points to the image in the box, exasperated.

Her mom groans. “Ghira, it’s just a game.”

“Then the responsibles behind it should have done a better job…” he sulks.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Blake rolls her eyes with a grin before giving the twins a quick look. “Don’t forget to put the game in your bag, okay? I have a feeling you'll be using it a lot these next few days.”

“Okaaaay,” they both respond in sync, waiting with eager eyes for her dad to end his rambling so they can start playing.

Leaving her family’s chatter behind, she walks up to the entrance and suddenly feels a rush of cold air pouring through the small gap left by the open door. She sticks the tip of her foot in it and, balancing the cups in her hands, opens it enough to step outside. The view of the starry Mistralian skies —finally clear after an entire day of raining— greets her, along with a chilly breeze that makes her painfully aware of the thin sweater she’s wearing.

“Hey, don’t come out like that. You're gonna catch a cold.”

Yang is on the porch, leaning against the wall next to the front door with one of her fluffiest coats. Spring started a few weeks ago, but tonight feels like it belongs in the middle of winter, and it’s not so much for the temperature itself —Blake notices, grinning to herself— than for the rosiness of her wife’s nose.

“Can’t you see my hands are busy? I couldn’t put on a jacket like this,” she counters, trying to fake indignation. 

Her plan works a treat, since Yang smiles knowingly and opens one side of her coat wide, inviting the faunus to share in her warmth. Blake is quick to seize this opportunity, and the moment she walks into her, Yang puts her left arm around her shoulders, enclosing her inside the coat; the inner lining is nice and fuzzy, but her wife’s innate body heat does far more to keep the cold away.

“There you go,” she whispers, handing her one of the teacups.

“Thanks.”

Blake brings hers close to her mouth and relishes for a few seconds in the lavender steam caressing her cold cheeks before taking the first sip, immediately humming in bliss and leaning against Yang’s side with her eyes closed.

“Your parents have really bonded with the kids,” she hears her say all of a sudden.

“Mmhm…”

“And the twins seem to like them too.”

The faunus laughs quietly. “My dad helped Phoebe cheat her way out of grounding... and earlier I found Damon napping on my mother’s lap. So yeah, I think it’s safe to assume they’ve taken a liking to them, too.”

When the blonde doesn’t respond, Blake peeks at her from the corner of the eye and notices her sullen expression, and how she still hasn’t even tasted her tea.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, but the only response she gets from Yang is a deeper frown. Thinking about the topic of her parents, Blake figures out what could be troubling her wife and quickly gives her a playful bump with her butt. “Are you worried about them liking your dad? He's an angel, they’re going to love him.”

But Yang sighs, shaking her head. “It’s not my dad that worries me.”

Blake grows silent, brows furrowing and leaning once more against Yang, her gaze getting lost into the vast meadows.

“Raven?”

Her wife blows air through her nose, unconsciously tightening the grip on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do... What should I tell the kids?”

“You mean... about her leaving when you were little?”

“No, they know that. I mean…” struggling to find the right words, Yang starts lightly bumping the back of her head against the wall until she lets out a frustrated grunt. “She’s not like your mom, Blake. I don’t want them to open up to her just to get… ignored or something. I know how that feels, and it's not very nice."

Blake remains respectfully silent, eyeing her wife as she lays down her feelings.

Despite her relationship with Yang —and for extension, her family—, Raven has always remained a foreign and enigmatic figure in Blake's life. And not just to her, but also to Ruby —who for all intents and purposes is Raven's step-daughter—, and the rest of their friends as well.

Through the last eight years, they've managed to gather everyone for Patch's Spring Festival a few times, and in each and every occasion, Raven has behaved like a complete outsider. Dining together with everyone and partaking in the festivities, yes, but most of the time standing silently next to Tai, like a statue, or watching from afar.

Heck, Blake can count with one hand every full conversation she's had with the elusive mother since they met.

"But at the same time," Yang goes on, "I don't want to get them involved in my drama, you know? I don't want to come at them like 'Hey, that's your grandma, but don’t talk to her because she's a total bitch, okay?'" she sighs, finally taking a sip from her tea and glancing at her with a helpless frown. "What should I do?"

It's difficult…

Yang's worry is understandable considering her experience, but Blake doesn't think it's fair to deny the woman of the opportunity to get close to the twins, who are going to be part of her family for as long as she lives. They're presuming that she's the same conflicted, nihilist person she was years ago, when they haven't even had the chance to see if she's changed after all this time.

Sure, she's reserved and not very outspoken, but Blake more than anyone knows those traits are hardly a reason to think badly of her.

Choosing her words carefully, she starts, "You gave her plenty of opportunities to do the right thing, and she always turned you away. All she's ever done in her life has hurt you."

Yang doesn't say anything, but her bright lilac eyes are fixated on her.

"Even if your dad says she wants to make things right for you… after everything that happened, you have every right to turn her away from your life," she stops, collecting her thoughts and giving her wife a resigned look. "But I think you should give the kids the chance to reach out to her. Not for her sake, but theirs. They’ve never had anyone besides each other, so if we can fit even one more person into their lives, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“And if she doesn’t reach back?” Yang ponders after a moment of consideration.

“Then my mom will have to do double shifts,” she jokes, rejoicing when a light chuckle escapes her wife’s lips. “Now seriously, they survived for six months on one of Remnant’s worst dumpsters, Yang. Give our kids some credit, they’re not going to crumble that easily.”

The moment Yang's tiny smile turns into a devilish grin is when Blake knows her wife is starting to feel better, and also when she starts to get cautious. 

“Can you run that by me again?” the blonde asks, her voice strangely demure.

Blake cocks an eyebrow. “They’re not going to crumble that easily?”

“Before that.”

“Uh, give our kids some cr—?”

“Sorry, sorry, what? Our _what_?”

Her cheeks quickly grow warm, but she glances away to hide it. “Don’t be immature, Yang...”

In response, Yang holds her closer against her chest, bumping their heads together playfully. “C’mon, say it for me...”

Blake rolls her eyes, but a little silly smile tugs at her lips. “Our kids.”

“Gosh… You sound so sexy when you get into that ‘Mama Belladonna’ attitude,” Yang purrs, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Oh, shut up,” she digs her elbow into her side, making her recoil and giggle with a roguish smirk.

After a moment of peaceful mirth, Yang draws her in again, caressing her arm while looking down at her teacup. “You're right... I’ll just wait and see how things turn out. And if she doesn’t take this chance… welp, then too bad for her. One more reason to forget she exists at all.”

It’s best to leave it at that, Blake thinks, so she merely nods in agreement.

The wind whistles gently in the distance, carrying that pleasant smell of fireplace and fresh grass from all over the village. It tousles their hairs, making them flutter together in a swirl of gold and ebony, but it just as easily makes Blake start shivering, her lack of warm clothing finally taking its toll.

“Come on, you’re really gonna catch something at this rate,” the blonde softly pushes her towards the entrance, keeping her under her coat.

Her words and her voice shift back to their usual vibrant tone, like the sun shining through the clouded skies after a storm, but there’s a subtle fear buried underneath. She may be able to hide it from everyone else, but not from Blake.

Never from Blake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the longest chapter I've written so far, I hope you enjoyed it ^^  
> There's not much else to say so... pack your things, 'cause we're leaving for Patch!


	21. Ep II: Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!  
> For those who didn't stumble upon it or didn't notice, I started a short prequel to this story, focused on the last hours of the Grimm War (my take on the end of the series, basically). While it's not "mandatory" to read, it offers some clues as to why things have developed the way they have so far in the story and, most importantly, how things WILL develop in the future. For the full experience, I strongly recommend checking out that one too.  
> I've made Gemini into a series, so you can access that story directly through the "Previous work" link above, but I'll leave it here too just in case.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195997/chapters/66428473
> 
> Also read the notes at the end of this chapter to see me whining about college. Enjoy!

Tuesday comes and the whole family gets up early to make sure they don’t leave anything behind before they depart. It doesn’t take too long, since they all got their bags ready the previous night, but Blake and Yang take a few more minutes to secure all the doors and windows. Himawari is a peaceful place without a single case of burglary in the last thirty years —according to their merry innkeeper—, but since they used to leave the house alone on a regular basis due to their jobs, it’s become something of a ritual.

Once they check the last lock, they pack everything in Yang's car and put the village behind them under the break of day.

The Mistral Airport is bustling as always, filled with people from every corner of the world wandering around in a chaotic hurry: common Mistralian citizens, nicely-dressed Atlesian business people, Vacuan refugees with eyes brimming with hope… and Huntsmen. Lots of Huntsmen coming and going from kingdom to kingdom in search of new opportunities, like migratory birds.

The twins are barely able to speak as they take in this new experience. Damon extends his neck as much as he can while riding on his adoptive grandfather's shoulders, gawking in every direction like a curious cat. And Phoebe is so incapable of keeping her eyes ahead that Blake has to catch her at least four times in a row so she doesn't fall flat on her face.

Even the airport itself is probably enough to blow their minds: escalators going up and down, countless luxury brand stores on every corner, the sight of the giant boat-like ships on the outside… Blake can't even imagine how they're going to react to their first time flying on one of those, but she can’t wait to find out.

Neither do they, apparently, because as soon as they arrive at the check-in, Phoebe jumps and latches herself onto the counter like a monkey before the adults have a chance to speak.

"Four tickets to Vale and two to Vacuo, please!" she shouts excitedly like a customer in a café, making the receptionist —a young squirrel faunus— chuckle at her boldness before turning to them with a respectful bow.

"Good morning. May I see your—? Oh! Miss Belladonna!" the woman's eyes light up when she notices her behind the girl, bowing a second time. "Traveling again so soon?"

Blake arrives at Phoebe’s side and smiles at the receptionist, a common interaction at this point due to her frequent visits to the airport. "Yes, and not because of work, for once," she says with a tinge of humor before tapping the girl's back. "We already bought the tickets, Phoebe."

"Huh? When?"

Yang laughs, stopping next to her with a bag over her shoulders. "A few days ago. People don't usually buy them the same day they leave, kiddo." 

"Ugh, h-how was I supposed to know? I have no idea how this works," Phoebe blushes, dropping from the counter.

The receptionist chuckles and starts typing on her terminal. “First time flying?”

"Yup."

"Not just that. First time leaving the kingdom too, at least for these chipmunks,” Yang gestures at them.

"We're going to Vale for Patch's Spring Festival!" Damon adds, kicking his legs and bouncing on her dad's shoulder.

"A festival? That sounds like fun!" the woman beams without looking away from the screen. "Okay… Belladonna, here it is. There are two entries, two adults and two kids for Patch, and two adults for Vacuo."

"That's us," her father cuts in, putting their bags on the floor with a loud thud.

"We're making a stopover on Vale first, right?" Her mother asks.

"Yes, ma'am. The hour and embark number of your connecting flight is there, but please refer to our personnel in Vale if you have any problem with the schedule or the accommodation," the squirrel faunus then turns to Blake once more to give her their tickets as well, her long fluffy tail wagging unconsciously each time they make eye contact. "Same for you, Miss Belladonna. If you need anything at all, please, just ask. We'll be more than glad to sort out any problem you have."

"Thank you very much," she says with a bow, half-honestly half-practiced, which makes the young receptionist's smile grow even wider.

Blake still hasn't grown fully used to this… preferential treatment, even after all these years. She knows most of the time is out of genuine gratitude for everything the FIS has accomplished —unlike poor Weiss, who more often than not has to deal with bootlickers and that sort of selfish people—, but it still feels awkward.

Or maybe she's just awkward herself...

The woman then proceeds with their baggage check, trying her best to remain professional but unable to keep herself from making small talk. To Blake, more precisely. She indulges her, not wanting to be rude, but as soon as they leave for the boarding gate, she sighs.

"Something wrong?" Phoebe tilts her head, walking hand in hand with her through the crowd.

Blake shakes her head. "No, it's just—"

"Fame can be a pain in the butt, huh?" Yang gives the faunus a lopsided grin, casually sliding a hand over her shoulders.

"Pain isn't the right word. I don’t mind people recognizing me… It just feels weird to have all these small acquaintances everywhere and talk so casually with them," then she facepalms, her cheeks getting warm with embarrassment, "when I don't even know most of their names."

Her father laughs. "They just want to show their appreciation, dear. Right now, you're like a mother figure to every faunus on this planet."

"That feels even weirder, dad..." she grimaces, which only makes him laugh harder.

Her mother bends over as she walks next to him, looking at the twins with a teasing smirk. "Did you hear that, kids? That's a lot of people you're going to have to share her with."

“Mom…”

It's obviously a joke, and Blake expects them to just laugh it off, but they don't. Actually, they frown like it's a really serious matter.

"Well they better get in line, ‘cuz we have preference!" Damon exclaims with crossed arms. Phoebe doesn’t say anything, but Blake doesn’t miss the way she tugs a little harder at her hand while pursing her lips.

"I agree! Two more people I can accept, but I'm not sharing my Blake with anyone else," she refuses to look at her, but she can almost hear the knowing grin in Yang's voice.

"My, sweetie… Aren't you popular now?" her mom giggles into her hand.

She really should be able to take this teasing with a straight face with all the experience she has in Yang-handling, but she can't help the skittish smile tugging at her lips. It’s been merely a week, and it’ll take far longer before she can sincerely admit that she’s gotten used to being a mother, but this… Knowing that they already treasure her company this much really helps a lot.

Puffing out her chest, she squeezes Phoebe’s hand and glances between her and Damon with a sunny expression. “Alright, who’s ready for their first flight?”

Their frowns immediately turn upside down.

  


* * *

  


Ornithopters have to be the coolest things Phoebe has seen in her entire life. She’d seen them plenty of times on her favorite board game cards, surging the skies above the city as tiny dots every day, and she was able to see one up close a few days ago when it came to pick up Aster for school. But that was nothing like the huge vessel waiting for them on the runway. It’s so big that she can’t even compare it to anything else she’s ever seen.

It’s kind of scary to think that such a giant machine can stay flying so high in the sky, but her excitement vastly overweights her fear.

When they reach their gate, they join a long line of people going through a small corridor that leads directly into the ship; there has to be almost a hundred people between adults and children! Their turn comes and Blake shows the clerk waiting next to the door their tickets and, finally, they’re allowed to board the massive monster. Ghira puts Damon on the floor as they step into the passageway and he soon joins her side on the lead, his crutches clacketing rapidly on the floor like hooves and exposing his own anticipation.

“Phoebe, Damon, slow down. Stay where I can see you,” Yang warns them from behind.

“Okay!” she shoots back, not tearing her eyes from the path ahead.

The only thing they can see is the mass of passengers walking in front of them, but that doesn't deter them; in fact, the constant halts as the people in line slowly enter the ship only makes them more and more excited.

"We're gonna fly, Phoebe…" Damon mutters.

She smirks, her lips quivering in thrill. "I know."

He drums the tip of the crutches on the floor more enthusiastically. "On a real airship!"

"I know!"

After who knows how much time, they reach the end of the corridor and enter the ornithopter. The open area they step into is almost as big as their entire house (but still less than a quarter of the size of the ship), with terminals and TV screens on every wall, and vast window panes on the far end to look directly outside. It's not as crowded as she expected though, since most passengers, rather than staying around this 'hall' area, are heading to one of the corridors on each side of the room, going deeper into the ship.

"Woah, this place is huge! It’s like a whole building!"

"Come on, kids. We're blocking the line," Blake taps their backs, moving them gently out of the way.

But where do they go? Phoebe thought flying on an airship was like riding on a bus, but she can’t find any sign of seats anywhere. "Um, where do we sit?"

"I think we go into section B," Yang answers, glancing at her wife. "Which was our cabin? Twelve?"

“Cabin?”

Blake takes one of their tickets and reads it aloud, "B-11."

>> _Attention. All passengers must head to their designated cabins before take-off. Thank you and enjoy the flight._

"Ours is in section B too, let's go," Ghira declares as soon as the speaker finishes talking, beckoning the whole family through one of the corridors before they’re engulfed by the crowd.

"But I wanna see how we take off," Damon complains, gesturing to the huge windows.

“We have a window all to ourselves, don’t worry,” Yang pats his shoulder.

The six of them hurry through corridor B, marching past a bunch of sliding doors with numbers on them that look like they’d be more at home in a hotel, until they reach the one Blake said; around them, the crowd starts to dissolve as each group of passengers walk into their own cabin while the speaker keeps repeating the same message over and over again.

Ghira and Kali then stand aside, the man gesturing to the rest of the corridor behind them. “Well, we better get going.”

“We'll drop by after lunch, okay? See you later,” the woman waves at them before she and her husband walk away.

“After lunch?” Damon asks once they’re gone.

Blake slides one of the tickets through a weird device on the side of the door and it makes a beep sound before sliding open. “You wouldn’t want to spend the whole flight without having something to eat, right?”

At her brother’s side, Phoebe furrows her brows. “Wait a minute... How long does it take to get to Vale, exactly? Isn't it like an hour or something?”

The blonde chuckles at them before entering the cabin after the faunus. “An hour? Try six.”

“Six?!”

The couple of stunned twins quickly follow the women inside, and Phoebe’s earlier comparison becomes a reality as they’re greeted by a miniature hotel room, with a comfy-looking couch on each side and —just as Yang said— a window between them, currently giving them a view of part of the runway and the humongous right wing of the ship. The cabin is spacious enough to fit four adults without much trouble, so in their case it offers a little bit of extra leeway.

“Didn’t you wanna fly? Well there you go!” Yang cackles, sprawling on one of the couches while resting her legs on the opposite, although a quick glare from her wife makes her put them down in a second. “It’s cool the first hour or so, but the rest of the trip is kinda boring. Just hour after hour of nothing but clouds, forests and a bit of ocean in between.”

Phoebe grimaces. She didn’t expect the trip to take _that_ long, but then again, this is the first time they’re traveling to another kingdom. “That sounds… tedious.”

“Maybe we should’ve brought the board game to play in the meantime,” her twin pouts, then sighs in defeat when he looks around the small cabin. “But there’s no table…”

“Don’t worry,” Blake takes a seat in front of her wife and produces a handful of pocket-sized books from her handbag with an eager smile, her cat ears standing cheerfully on point. “We can pass the time with these.”

“Yeah… I might give them a shot after my scroll is completely dead,” the blonde shrugs, clearly not very hot on the idea.

“What a surprise…” the faunus says with a roll of her eyes before turning to them and patting the empty space between her and the window. “Anyway, come here. We should be taking off soon, and you get front row seats for the show.”

“Yes, finally!” Phoebe shouts, rushing to take the spot next to her while Damon makes his way to Yang’s side, right in front of her.

Not much happens for the next fifteen minutes or so, aside from the airport staff constantly coming and going, but after a while all activity stops and the runway becomes deserted. In that moment, the door to the cabin locks completely and a deep growling sound starts reverberating through the ship, enough for Phoebe to feel the subtle vibration in her stomach.

“Ohhhh, it’s starting! It’s starting!” her twin exclaims, pressing his face to the glass.

The sound gets louder and louder until the entire ship shakes for a brief second, and that's when Phoebe realizes they've parted from the ground. As it slowly ascends in the air, the ornithopter unfolds its beautiful sail-like wings, which propels it upwards even faster and makes it shake back and forth.

"Is this supposed to move so much?" Damon momentarily tears his eyes from the window to glance at Blake.

"No, it’s not! Something's wrong!" Yang suddenly panics, holding onto her seat for dear life.

The boy yelps in distress and follows suit, clinging desperately to her robot arm. “W-What's happening?!”

“I don’t know, but it’s something bad!” she yells, eyes darting around, which only makes Damon freak out even more and hug her arm tighter.

Blake remains calm, however, and even more so when she leans forward and swats her wife right across the head with a book. "Yang, don't be mean."

...

Damon opens a hesitant eye, completely squeezed against Yang’s side. “Huh?”

“She’s joking, Damon…” the faunus sighs.

The awful blonde then starts laughing through her teeth with a malevolent smirk, dropping the act and petting the boy’s head. “Yeah, ships always move a little bit when they take off,” she gestures around the cabin. “See? Everything’s fine.”

He remains in the same position for a few seconds, glancing between them like a scared puppy before he abruptly disentangles himself from her with a betrayed look, his face getting red from embarrassment. “That wasn’t funny!”

“I-I’m sorry! It was— It was an automatic reaction, I promise!” The way her childish giggles intensify does little to help her apology. “I did something similar to my sister when we were kids and I just couldn’t resist!” Her words fall on deaf ears as he purses his lips and spins around, scooting away from her, but she chases after him while poking his sides. “Come on, Damon, don’t get mad. I said I’m sorry! Look at Phoebe, she didn’t even bat an eye.”

This draws her twin’s attention to her, ignoring Yang’s plea and leaning forward as he notices her contorted expression. “Phoebe? Are you okay?”

Truth is, Phoebe has barely paid any attention to them for the last few minutes. She’s been too busy watching as the ground zoomed off further and further away from them, and too caught in the constant rocking of the ship to even notice their antics. But most of all, she’s been too focused on the sudden churning of her belly…

“I don’t, ugh—! I don’t feel so good…” she groans, slowly turning around and covering her mouth. “I think I’m gonna…!”

“Oh, no…” The moment Damon sees her pale face, he jumps back with a grimace, shielding himself behind Yang’s arm. “Oh, no, no, no, no! Please, not _again_!”

The smile vanishes from the blonde’s face before she recoils immediately just like him. “W-Wait! You have motion sickness?! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I’ve never ha— uagh! I-I’ve never felt this— uggh!” she gags, one hand on her mouth and the other on her tummy.

“I-It’s okay, Phoebe. Just… bend over, lower your head and, huh, take deep breaths,” Blake quickly tries to take control before hell breaks loose, rubbing her back and holding her hair.

“U-Ugh…”

“Don’t let her do it on the floor! We’re gonna be stuck in here for six hours!” Yang exclaims hysterically. “Take her outside!”

“We can’t, the door is still locked...”

“Then use your handbag!”

“I’m not letting her throw up in my bag, Yang!” Blake snaps, making a wry face.

“She’s gonna do it! She’s gonna do it!” Damon yells.

“Phoebe, Phoebe, hold on... It’s okay, just bre—,”

“BLEERGGGHH!”

  


* * *

  


The trip is going pretty nice, overall.

Just a couple of hours after the ship took off, they reached the end of the continent of Anima, and from that point on there was nothing but ocean and blue sky as far as the eye could see. The ocean is as imposing as he imagined, but being so high in the air makes it look like a giant blue carpet, so he quickly grew tired of looking at it. Watching the natural wonders of Mistral from above had been really cool too, but even that lost its charm after a while.

Now they’re just trying to pass the time however they can until they reach Sanus. All six of them.

Yup...

Right after their cabin suffered a... catastrophic accident, they had to move to another. They were lucky Ghira and Kali were more than happy to share, or they would’ve probably been forced to either endure the aftermath of Phoebe’s little problem or invade the privacy of other passengers, with the awkwardness that would’ve followed...

It’s tighter than before —that’s a given—, especially with a giant man like their adoptive grandpa taking up more than half a couch, but Damon likes to think it makes the cabin feel more cozy; Phoebe certainly doesn’t seem to dislike resting on Blake and Kali’s laps, and he’d be lying if he said he’s uncomfortable sitting on Yang’s while watching her play on her scroll. Plus they get to spend a few more hours with the older couple before they part ways, so maybe this was for the best… in a way.

“Mmmmh…” Phoebe suddenly stirs.

Blake has been engrossed in her reading for a while, but the moment she notices the girl moving, she lowers her book to look down at her. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Better…” the girl mutters, opening her eyes groggily. She’s regained some color, so that’s a good sign; it seems like the dried ginger Kali gave her really works for that kind of problem. “How much did I sleep?”

"Close to two hours."

His sister frowns —and he gets the feeling it’s not because of the sleeping— before she buries her face in Blake's lap again, whispering a muffled, "I'm sorry…"

“It’s okay, sis. We didn’t know you’ll get sick...” he feels the need to say to ease her worries, although by the disheartened grunt he gets as a response, it doesn’t work particularly well.

"That’s right, it's not your fault," Yang says ruefully, pausing the game to look at her across the cabin. "We’re the adults here, we should've prepared for something like this."

Blake nods weakly in agreement.

"Nobody's born knowing," Ghira chimes in with a kind smile, sitting next to Yang and peeking at them over his own book. "Now that it’s happened to you once, I’m sure you’ll never let it happen again. There will always be little bumps in the road, but after each one you’ll come out better prepared for the next. As time passes, you'll start seeing these things coming."

"I hope…"

"Don't fret over it, everyone goes through this," Kali adds, pulling a small bottle out of her bag and offering it to Phoebe. "Here, sweetie. You have to stay hydrated."

"Thanks," she says, slowly sitting up and chugging down a bit of water.

"Do you want to rest a little more?" Blake asks.

"I'm better now, but... this doesn't feel bad," Phoebe blushes, returning the bottle to Kali. "Can I stay a little longer?"

"Be my guest," she smiles in return, helping her settle her head down on her lap again and getting a contented hum out of the girl.

Maybe it’s because she’s still tired due to the air sickness, but this is the first time Damon has seen his twin getting all drowsy during the day; normally she can't stay put in one place once she wakes up in the morning. But Damon knows how lying on someone's lap feels, and not even a girl as restless as Phoebe could resist its effects.

“You’re gonna fall asleep again," he teases, watching her peaceful expression.

Then her face turns into a frown and she reluctantly opens her eyes. "Then talk to me, dummy."

"About what?"

Turning around so she's facing him, Phoebe distracts herself by playing with the tiny wrinkles in Blake's pants. "I don't know…" she starts blowing raspberries while pinching every crease. "Tell us about your hometown, Yang."

"Huh? About Patch?" the blonde takes her eyes off the scroll again, this time with a quizzical look.

"Yeah, what's it like?" Damon asks while shifting on her lap, equally curious. Considering it's a town from a foreign kingdom, there has to be something different between it and their village; although Himawari is the only town they’ve seen besides the big M, so maybe it's kind of silly.

Yang puts her scroll away and thinks to herself, mindlessly wrapping her arms around him. "Well… There's not much to say about it, really. It's like any other town."

"That's vague…" Phoebe sighs, unblinking.

"It's not much bigger than Himawari, but there's a lot more houses and people living in it, I guess, like halfway between our village and a small city. There's also a market, a small cinema—,"

"A cinema? With a giant screen?!" Damon shouts, starry-eyed. There were a few cinemas in the lower districts, but they never tried them; the closest thing they've seen are a few movies through the orphanage's old projector.

"Yeah, super giant screen," she laughs. "Then there's the arcade —my personal favorite—, a small amusement park near the docks… And that's pretty much it, I think."

That sounds pretty cool compared to the peace and quietness of their village.

"Your school," Blake adds nonchalantly from behind her book.

"Oh, right!"

Phoebe cocks an eyebrow. "A school? What's interesting about that?"

"Not just any ordinary school, girl. Signal Academy, a combat school!" Yang exclaims triumphantly.

"Wait... I thought you went to Beacon."

"Beacon is a Huntsmen Academy, there’s a big difference. I started at Signal, then graduated and went to Beacon," she explains with a huge grin. "You see, you can't just enter a Huntsmen Academy without knowing the basics. You learn to kick regular butt, _then_ you learn to kick Grimm’s butt."

His twin hums, mildly impressed. “Becoming a Huntress is more complicated than I thought…”

"It is,” she chuckles, sticking her nose in the air proudly. “Anything else you wanna know?"

Lots of things, honestly, but Damon doesn’t want to pester her with too many questions. However, after spending some time with Blake’s parents and getting to know them, the first thing that piques his curiosity about Yang is her family.

"Your dad! How is he?" he wonders earnestly.

Blake snorts, again without removing her eyes from the book. "Just like her, to our misfortune."

"Exactly! A cool, feisty and funny ex-Huntsman, just like me. Thanks, honey!" the blonde beams at her.

"You forgot humble."

"And humble!"

The twins laugh at their little jabs, but Phoebe catches onto the most important detail. "He was a Huntsman too?"

"Many years ago, before I was born. Now he's a teacher at Signal," her smile grows. "He taught me, actually."

"So... he fights like you?"

"Maybe when he was young and strong like me, but aging takes its toll," she sneers, shrugging her shoulders.

“I feel personally attacked…” Ghira comments in an offhand manner.

“No offense, big man.”

“Still,” Damon starts, challenging Yang’s smirk with one of his own, “if he can bring together and take care of so many people in his house all by himself, he must be really capable.” Then, the other three grown-ups raise their eyes from their books in unison, glancing between him and Yang with a silent question. The boy quickly grows self-conscious. “Did… Did I say something wrong?”

“Oh, right… I think I never really cleared up that little bit,” Yang hisses, making an awkward expression.

“What do you mean?” Phoebe wonders, narrowing her eyes.

“Remember the day we met, how I told you about my first mom...?”

“The one who left? Yeah.”

“She— Well… Believe it or not, she _kind of_ came back years later, and now she’s together with my dad again.”

...

“She just...” Damon blinks, glancing at his twin, then at Yang again, “came back?”

“The heck?!” Phoebe suddenly bolts upright, startling Blake. “Where was she?! What had she been doing?!”

“It’s… complicated.”

“She left when you were a baby! How are you okay with that?” The girl scowls, making the woman frown and avert her eyes.

“Phoebe,” Damon says, giving his twin a chastising look; this is clearly a delicate topic for Yang.

“I just don’t get it! Wouldn’t you be mad if our mom suddenly dropped by the orphanage after so many years?”

“I…”

He doesn't know how to respond. He likes to think he’d try to hear an explanation first, then decide if he wants to be angry or not, but that’s just blissful thinking. If it really came down to it, who knows? Maybe he’d be just as mad as her…

Her expression hardens. “See? That’s not something you can fix just by coming back years later with an apology.”

“Yang’s mother had her own reasons, and she’s right, they’re complicated. They may be right or wrong... but it’s not for us to judge,” Blake interjects with a troubled smile, putting a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. “If Yang and her dad were able to welcome her back, then surely we can do the same, right?” 

The girl grumbles, her mouth set in a hard line as if she wanted to add something more, but it seems she can’t argue with that reasoning. It’s Yang’s mom after all, they don’t have a saying in that.

“She’s a very discreet woman. Not very talkative, that’s Taiyang’s job,” Kali adds to help diffuse the tension, earning a quick chuckle from the blonde, “but she’s always been kind and polite to us. Right, dear?”

“Indeed. And she’s honest, a rare trait to find nowadays, even if sometimes she takes it… a little too far,” Ghira says, eyeing his daughter-in-law with an amused smirk.

“Being social is definitely not her forte, right?” Yang agrees with a hearty nod.

With the help of Blake and their adoptive grandparents, the atmosphere slowly clears up, and Damon doesn’t hesitate to join the movement and do his bit. “That sounds like someone I know...”

His twin glares at him, but he knows her well enough to see when she’s more annoyed than angry. With a little growl, their grumpy imp drops back on Blake’s lap, facing away from them. “I’m not gonna like her.”

Blake furrows her brows and gently tilts the girl’s head to look her in the eyes. “She’s still an adult, and Yang’s mother, _and_ our host for the next two weeks, so you must be polite and respectful above everything. Okay?”

Phoebe holds her gaze for a moment, but ends up sighing before lying down once more, “Okay…”

The cat faunus seems to be left a bit worried, but her mom nods at her with a smile of approval and simply resumes her reading, prompting her and her dad to do the same. Yang shares a brief look with her wife that lasts only a moment —it’s something they do a lot, Damon noticed, as if they didn’t even need words to talk to each other—, and then adjusts his weight on her lap so she can go back to playing on her scroll. He watches, and even takes turns with her to play, but he keeps thinking back to the topic of Yang’s mom.

She returned, and they don’t seem to have a problem with that. Surely she can’t be that bad of a person, right? Surely she must’ve had her reasons...

  


* * *

  


They don’t touch the subject about Raven for the rest of the trip —even if Phoebe spends a good part of lunch sulking—, so the hour it takes until Vale’s high mountain ranges appear over the horizon fly by smoothly. The girl feels well enough by then to get up, and she and her twin sit with their grandparents to watch the landscape unfold while Blake and Yang take a walk around the ship; it serves as a good distraction, at least to keep their minds away from the topic. They have no clue about the mess that is her relationship with Raven, but Yang can understand how the sole idea of an absent mother suddenly returning one day must resonate deeply with them.

The last two hours of the flight feel the shortest. The kids spend most of the first one enjoying the beauty of Forever Fall, and the hundreds of ruins and ancient sites scattered across the miles and miles of forest, and most of the second simply chatting with the older couple.

Finally, when the top of the rebuilt CCT tower comes into view behind the mountains like a massive skeletal finger scratching the sky, they know they’ve arrived at their destination.

“Look, there’s Beacon,” Yang crouches between the kids, pointing at the distant structure sitting on top of a cliff. The whole academy is a mix of gray and blackish stone, making it easy to separate the original body from the parts that were restored after The Fall; it’s a shadow of the clean silver castle from her memories, but it’s still an astounding sight to behold, even after everything it endured.

“Ohhh, it looks even bigger than Haven,” Damon gawks.

“Cool, huh?”

“Did you know they keep the frozen head of a giant dragon in the entrance?” Blake asks with a roguish grin all of a sudden. Their heads turn around to face her so fast it’s a miracle they don’t hurt their necks in the process.

“They keep… a _what_?” Phoebe asks, mouth open in disbelief.

“The frozen head… of a giant… dragon,” she repeats, dramatically emphasizing each word. “Would you like to see it?”

“We can?!” Damon’s eyes start shining.

“Not today, but maybe we could drop by sometime while we’re here. It’s just a twenty minute flight after all...” after an intentional pause to look at each of them, her smile grows as she focuses on the most feisty of the kids. “If you play your cards right the next few days, that is.”

The boy then pouts, glaring at his twin. “Sis! A dragon’s head!”

Phoebe shrinks under her brother’s gaze, conflict flashing through her eyes, but in the end she glances at her and gives a meaningful nod. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

The sneaky faunus smiles and pets her head, inadvertently winking at Yang when the kids go back to stare outside the window.

Ohhh, sly, sly Blake… No matter how much time passes, she never ceases to amaze her. Hopefully this will make things easier.

Moments later, the airship begins its slow descent towards the Vale Airport, once again moving a little too much for Phoebe’s stomach, but thankfully she can endure it with some more of Kali’s home remedy (seriously, this woman is a real blessing). When the ornithopter finally touches the ground, the family follows the rest of the passengers into the terminal to pick up their baggage. Sadly, they find out too late that their flight to Patch is scheduled for roughly thirty minutes after landing in Vale, while Blake’s parents must wait another two hours for theirs, so the time for goodbyes comes sooner than they expected.

“We better get going, our bullhead is waiting,” Blake says, stepping in to hug her parents. “Give us a call when you arrive at Ziggurat, okay?”

Ghira surrounds her with his huge arms. “We will, dear. Have a nice break, you’ve earned it.”

“Thanks,” she then moves to hug her mother. “See you, mom, and take care.”

“You too, sweetie… Make sure Yang keeps applying the ointment, okay?”

This gets a chuckle out of the faunus. “I’ll remind her every night.”

“Have some mercy, you’re sentencing me to smell that nasty apricot cream for another three months,” Yang sighs while shaking her head; she just can’t win with this family, can she? “Anyway… Have a safe trip, guys, and watch out for sunburns.”

The older couple smile kindly at her before turning their attention to the youngest pair of the group. Ghira is the first one to kneel in front of them, his downcast expression revealing how unhappy he is to part ways this soon. But still, he manages a tiny smile that makes the wrinkles around his eyes stand out when he starts, “This felt way shorter than I expected, but we had a lot of fun. Whatever I imagined when Blake gave us the news, it falls incredibly short of how nice you’ve turned out to be.”

Phoebe and Damon go rosy-cheeked, both still embarrassed in the face of such blatant praise. “Thanks… you too,” the boy whispers, finding it hard to meet his eyes.

“Y-You can visit us whenever you want,” his sister says, a bit more brave.

“Oh, you can count on it. We’ll be back for more before you even notice we’re gone,” Kali giggles while bending over next to her husband. “Be good to Yang and Blake’s friends, okay? And enjoy the festival.”

The twins nod in unison and their adoptive grandparents stand up to take their leave —albeit reluctantly—, but not before Kali steps forward and crouches in front of Damon to whisper something in his ear. The boy smiles with a strange defiant look in his eyes and nods to whatever she said to him. Then at last, the four of them bide farewell to the elder faunus and leave for their flight.

“What was that about?” Phoebe asks.

“A secret mission.”

“A mission? What mission?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be secret anymore,” he smirks mischievously, receiving a dirty look from his twin in response.

Yang nods in appreciation with a knowing grin. “Already having secrets with grandma? Smooth, kiddo.”

“Don’t fall behind, guys, come on,” Blake calls from ahead, looking for their next embark.

  


* * *

  


If the ornithopter they boarded for their flight to Vale was a bear, then the bullhead they’re going to take to Patch would be a puppy. This one is roughly the same size as a regular old bus so, counting the four of them, they’re like twenty passengers overall, all crowded together —again, much like a bus— and carrying their bags with them.

This airship moves a lot more, but Phoebe still has some of those ginger bits that Kali gave her, and they really help in settling down her tummy. But considering they’re not even a light snack, her stomach being empty from her previous predicament and that she didn’t feel good enough to have lunch, they’re only making her more and more hungry. Hopefully she can have something to eat when they arrive at Yang’s home.

They fly all over Vale, this time so close to the ground that she can even make out the people moving around like ants, and if she had to sum up her first impression of the city in one word, it’d be ‘sad’. Not because the citizens seem unhappy or anything —in fact there was as much movement in the Vale Airport as in Mistral—, but because the city as a whole looks like a wounded animal. There are random districts completely in ruins and devoid of any activity, and even in the areas that seem the most healthy and prospering you can find entire buildings missing, the only remnant of their presence being the empty spot left on the street.

This is the scar left by the beginning of the Grimm War. It’s scary to think what kind of catastrophe could leave a city in this state, even after more than eight years...

But not everything is sad. Phoebe can appreciate the work put in by the kingdom to restore the city, shown by the amount of tower cranes peeking over like storks all around Vale. There’s a slow but steady collective effort trying to rebuild the capital, and that’s kind of nice; despite everything they went through, its citizens haven’t stopped moving forward.

Blake and Yang are slightly less talkative during the ride to Patch, their gazes drawn just like hers to the city’s current shape. They both got through the Fall of Vale —that’s as far as she knows, as far as they’ve told them—, but it’s evident by the way their eyes seem to dim a little bit that the event still weighs heavily on their minds. Damon notices it too, but they agree to stay silent for now, even if they really want to learn more about them.

As the bullhead crosses the short distance between the coast and the small island, the view becomes far more lively. The first thing they notice about Patch is the green. It’s _everywhere_. Yang wasn’t joking when she said her home was very similar to Himawari, since both of them are covered by dense forests. But unlike their humble village, with its dozen houses sprinkled all over the fields, here they can see the silhouette of a real town: stores, parks, and many more marks of civilization. It’s like the best of Himawari with the best of Mistral.

“Home, sweet home…” the blonde sighs with a dreamy expression.

The airship lands in a small square, almost like a bus station, and they step outside and breathe the country breeze for the first time since that morning.

“Alright, where to?” Damon asks, tapping his crutches with enthusiasm.

Yang hauls the heavier bag over her shoulders and steps in front of them, her face as bright as the sun. “Follow me, family!”

She marches forward without saying another word, and the three of them form a beeline behind her as she guides them through the town.

Patch really is a weird contrast between city and village. For one, there’s a sidewalk at each side of the road —and a road, for that matter—, like a city, but the buildings are one or two stories tall at most, which offers an awesome view of the surrounding nature; you have a couple of clothing stores and an arcade on one side, and then a patch of trees and flowers right behind. The fact that the whole town is already decorated for the festival, with banners and flower garlands on every corner, only makes it more charming. Even the villagers seem intoxicated by the cheerful atmosphere, crowding the streets by the dozens, all smiling and busy with the preparations.

“Yeah, we just arrived. Get ready ‘cuz we’ll be there in five,” Yang says, speaking loudly to her scroll with no regard to the bystanders, although they don’t even seem to notice her rambling amidst the festivities. “No, you don’t have to— Yeah? Okay, whatever you want. See ya,” she hangs up and peeks at them behind her. “They’ll be waiting for us outside. My dad always makes a big deal out of everything...”

“He’s thoughtful,” Blake chirps, amused.

“Yeah, you can put it that way.”

They’ve already met the first set of adoptive grandparents, so that’s only two more to go… plus sisters and friends and whatnot, but that’ll come later. Phoebe exchanges a look with her twin and they both nod, determined to see this through, so they take a deep breath and prepare themselves for meeting Yang’s parents.

The blonde takes them outside the main streets, following a dirt road that leads away from town and into a lovely path through the forest. Her first experience walking into a forest was oppressive and confusing —if not for Aster knowing her way around—, but this one is right the opposite, calm and simple; they just have to follow the road and enjoy the scenery. If Yang grew up here, she must’ve had one hell of a time playing around.

Not sooner than she starts getting lost in the peacefulness, a bright light appears at the end of the road. And… are those… barks?

“Zwei!” Yang exclaims before rushing ahead of them.

They find her moments later, crouched near the edge of the forest while petting a tiny dog, a _really_ tiny dog, not even bigger than their baby boar.

Phoebe goes to join her the moment she lays her eyes on the adorable animal, bouncing next to them. "Is it yours? What was his name? Can I pet it?!"

"He's Zwei. And yeah, go ahead, he loves people," Yang beams at her.

Having received the OK, she wastes no time and kneels next to the dog to start caressing the soft fur on his back. "Good boy, Zwei... Good boy."

The little furball tilts his fluffy head in an adorable manner, confused about the stranger girl praising him out of nowhere, but quickly decides that he likes it and starts panting and wagging his tail.

"Told ya."

Damon arrives at their side, glancing at his crutches and pursing his lips. "This isn't fair, I want to pet him too..."

"That’ll teach you, Mr. Secrets!" Phoebe laughs, sticking out her tongue.

"That's okay, you'll have plenty of time to play with him," Yang says, getting on her feet and grabbing the bag again. "Phoebe, do me a favor and carry him, okay? He's a playful old boy, but he's still an old boy."

"No problem!"

She picks Zwei up and hugs him to her chest. In response, the tiny dog glances upwards and licks her chin, making her giggle and Damon boil with jealousy.

When they come out of the forest, it suddenly feels like they're back at Himawari. The rest of the houses were all next to each other following a specific order, but the one that welcomes them is isolated, just like theirs back home. A pretty two-story house built with tree logs and surrounded by forest like a small sanctuary. And right at the entrance, a couple waiting.

A man with wide shoulders, grayish blonde hair and a stubble comes to receive them with a big dorky smile, the same one she's been seeing everyday during the last week. Blake wasn't joking, they really are the spitting image of each other...

"There you are!" He yells on top of his lungs, grabbing Yang and lifting her up in a hug. "Come here, kiddo! I've missed you!"

"D-Dad! I missed you too, but put me down! W-What's gotten into you?" She starts kicking her legs until he leaves her on the ground again.

"What's gotten into me?! Isn't it obvious?!" Like he's powered by a battery or something, he turns to Blake and opens his arms wide again. "Hey there, Miss President."

"Committee Chairwoman," she corrects with a resigned smile, not even fighting back when he crushes her in a hug as well. "Uck!"

"Same thing. How are you, dear?"

"G-Great. It's nice to see you, Tai," though almost out of air, Blake manages to look behind the man, to the other person present with them. "Hello, Raven."

That's when Phoebe notices the woman, who —unlike Yang's dad— still hasn't moved an inch; they can tell she's alive only because she blinks every now and then. If she thought Yang looked like her dad, then this woman looks straight up like a clone of her, but with a wild black mane and the emotional range of a concrete wall.

"Blake," it's all she says, her expression unchanging.

Her crimson eyes —the same color they saw when Yang snapped at them days ago— focus on the blonde girl, like she’s expecting her greetings too. Yang does not, however. Instead, she keeps on looking at her father like she's not even there.

So she's the one, Phoebe realizes. She's the one that abandoned her...

“Now, now… And what do we have here?”

Her attention snaps back to the man, who’s now staring right at them with an eager glint in his eyes. She’s grown used to introducing herself at this point, and he’s not as imposing as Ghira, so there’s no hesitation when she steps forward and offers him a handshake while still holding Zwei in her arms. “Phoebe Belladonna, sir. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, how formal… Nice to meet you, too! I’m Yang’s old man, Taiyang, but call me Tai,” he shakes her hand, seemingly entertained by her attitude.

“Don’t let her fool you, she’s a little devil,” Yang smirks from the sidelines with her arms crossed.

“It’s called personality,” Phoebe shoots back.

Taiyang starts laughing through his teeth. “That sassy already? Oh my, you’re in for a bumpy ride, girls,” then he turns to her twin. “I guess that makes you the Xiao Long, right pal?”

“Yup! Damon, the devil’s brother!” He exclaims, offering the tip of one of his crutches for a shake.

“This one’s more of a teddy bear, actually,” Yang adds teasingly, “but when he plays, he makes sure to play rough.”

The boy blushes. “A-A teddy?!”

Her dad nods in appreciation while shaking Damon’s crutch. “No kidding. You were a spunky little thing as a kid, but even you didn’t have to use these until you were ten.”

“I know, right?”

“Well, I’m glad to finally meet you both. Our house is your house, okay?” he stands up, resting his hands on his waist. 

Knowing he’s Yang’s father, Phoebe expected him to be much more pushing than Ghira, especially about the grandfather thing —that was one of her main fears—, but by this first impression he seems more… easygoing. It’s nice.

“Speaking of our house…” he goes on, stepping aside so they’re now facing the black-haired woman. “Kids, this is Yang’s mom, Raven.”

It’s hard not to frown when she knows what she knows, but she promised she’d be at least polite with Yang’s mother, so Phoebe does her best to put up a smile. Damon scoots closer to her, like he’s feeling her inner conflict and wants to let her know he’s with her, and that makes it a little easier.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” they both say at the same time.

The twins wait for the woman to say anything, but she doesn’t.

In fact, she seems to have a hard time even looking at them directly, her expression shifting for the first time since they arrived, but not in the way they imagined. She’s frozen in place and staring at them with a look of pure shock; of all the reactions she could’ve imagined, this has to be at the very bottom of the list. Phoebe looks at Damon as a way out of this awkward situation, but her twin seems just as lost as her. The woman keeps glancing between them, her ashy skin turning even more pale like she’s just seen a ghost, when Yang’s father intervenes.

“Raven?” he asks, his merry demeanor turning into genuine concern. When she doesn’t respond, he steps closer and grabs one of her shaking hands to make her snap out of it. “Raven, what’s wrong?”

She finally blinks, her heavy breathing slowing down and her eyes focusing nervously on him. “I’m— It’s… It’s nothing,” she exhales, averting her eyes from the twins like they have the plague or something. “N-Nice to meet you…”

What the…?

“A-Alright, let’s get inside…” Taiyang bites his lips but tries to hide it behind a sunny facade a second later, gently beckoning the woman to the entrance while peeking at the four of them over his shoulder. “Come in, I’ll help you settle in your room, okay?”

“S-Sure,” Blake responds, looking just as distraught as them before the couple disappears inside the house.

Yang grabs the bags again and starts walking without saying anything, only to stop in front of the kids to look down at them with a warm smile. “Don’t worry about that, it’s just…”

“B-Being social is not her forte, right?” Damon finishes, using her own words.

“Yeah, that’s right…” she nods weakly, turning around to follow her parents. “Come, I want to show you all my stuff from when I was a kid.”

They’re left alone in the front yard with Blake, who smiles awkwardly, clasps her hands together and motions them towards the house. “W-Well then… Let’s go.”

This innocent family visit just took a turn she didn’t expect.

This no longer has anything to do with Yang’s mother abandoning her, now this involves Phoebe and her brother directly. There is something really weird going on with that woman, and she doesn’t like it one bit. She promised she’d be polite, that she’d behave and be nice to all of their friends and family, and she’ll do her best to keep that promise, but she’s going to get to the bottom of this no matter what it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not being slow on purpose, I'm sorry! I had the bright idea of going back to college for a master degree, and the schedule was a complete mess! Like, about 90% of the year's work was put into the first semester for the dumbest of reasons and I've been drowning in essays since mid-October t.t
> 
> But I'm free now, at last, so expect more regular updates from now on!
> 
> So... The festival is here, Raven is being awkward, and I couldn't be more happy. I'll be alternating between updates for the prequel and the main story, but the prequel chapters are so short that you won't notice any delay, I promise. With that said, next is chapter 3 of the prequel. See ya there and merry christmas to all of you!


	22. Ep II: Chapter 9

After helping them unpack their stuff and settle in Yang's room —a bit crammed with the two beds, but at least they wouldn’t be sharing with strangers—, Tai decided to make lunch especially for Phoebe when he learned she’d gone through the whole trip without a bite. He could’ve just given her a piece of fruit or something and she wouldn’t have minded, but instead he put on his apron and cooked her a full meal, having none of her complaints. Confirming her first impressions, the man had turned out to be just as warm and spirited as Yang, so she couldn’t help but take a liking to him immediately.

The rest of the day went by normally, or at least as normal as it could get. What should’ve been a nice afternoon of getting to know their new grandpas turned into a single grandparent affair, since Raven excused herself out of every chance to spend time with them. Either she had to go out to do some groceries or she was busy in the storeroom or she had some other convenient reason to leave.

Neither Yang or Tai said anything about it, even as their eyes lingered on the woman for a few seconds as she left them alone. In any other circumstances, Phoebe wouldn’t have thought there was anything weird about it, since the festival is coming and they clearly have a lot of stuff to take care of before everyone arrives. But the way Yang’s mom reacted to them turns that into nothing more than an excuse.

She’s avoiding them.

“Is something wrong with Yang’s mom?” Phoebe had gone out of her way to ask Blake when she caught her alone, believing the faunus might be more sincere about the topic than her wife. “It’s like she doesn’t want to be anywhere near us.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just...” Blake had frowned, struggling with the words while crouching to regard the girl eye to eye. “You have to understand that not everyone is as eager to meet new people as Tai, or my parents. Raven has always had a hard time opening up, even to her own family…” she smiled reassuringly at her. “Be patient, she’ll warm up to you.”

Phoebe didn’t buy it, though. Blake was clearly trying to protect them —something she appreciates—, but that look the woman gave them had nothing to do with being withdrawn or unsociable. It wasn’t disgust —she’s seen that before—, it was something else, and Phoebe couldn’t put her finger on it. But she would.

When the night came, Raven had no alternative but to sit down and dine with all of them, but even then her eyes never once focused on the twins. Dinner with the Belladonnas had felt natural and easy, despite Phoebe and her brother’s shyness, but in this one there was an uncomfortable feeling floating around; they all knew there was something wrong with Raven, but they chose to dance around the issue. Tai and Yang talked non-stop, being the driving force of the conversation, while Blake joined in frequently to add little jabs that made both blondes chuckle. Phoebe and Damon would often get drawn under the spotlight by one of the three, and Tai would regard them with big bright and curious eyes, wolfing down every new detail he learned about them.

Then there’s Raven, who was eating silently at the man’s side despite his helpless attempts to bring her into the conversation; an awkward little chuckle or perhaps a few words —mostly ‘yes’, ‘right’ or the sort— was all he ever managed to get out of her. He wasn’t deterred from trying, however, his commitment to helping her open up evident even to the girl.

Eventually, the pile of food Yang’s dad prepared for dinner gets reduced to a few scraps and Phoebe leans back in her chair. “Phew, I’m stuffed…”

"You liked it?" Tai wonders eagerly, crossing his arms on the table.

Next to her, Damon is practically reduced to a small ball of content. "Everything was delicious..."

“Yup,” she sighs, hands drumming on her belly.

The man's whole face lights up in response like a child’s, and Phoebe can tell by the rhythmic tapping of his feet that he's just ecstatic, even if he's trying to contain himself for their sake.

Blake seems overwhelmed by the excessive amount of food —putting her own fork on the empty plate in front of her like a warrior sheathing her sword after a long battle—, but the satisfied smile on her face says that she’s grown used to it. "It was great as always, Tai."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he nods. "I hope Yang has put my teachings to good use now that you're living on your own."

"She has. Trust me, I'd have her cook every day if I could," the faunus responds with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"How greedy…" Yang grins before turning her attention to one of the empty bowls in the middle of the table, the last remains of some kind of spicy pork puree with herbs sticking to its walls. "What was that, by the way? One of your famous cooking experiments?"

"Was it good?" Tai asks back, turning the question to all four of them; there's the tinge of something in his voice that Phoebe can't place.

"Yeah, it was pretty good. It's not like you to use that much spice, so it's a nice change," Yang says approvingly, getting a nod of agreement from Blake, while Phoebe and her twin can do little more than offer a thumbs up.

The blonde man chuckles, gesturing to the gloomy woman at his side. "Then you can give your compliments to the chef."

Phoebe —despite the pleasant stupor washing over her thanks to her full stomach—, glances between Yang and Raven, getting completely into detective mode. She could swear a grimace flashed through the blonde's face the moment her mother was brought up, but maybe she’s just imagining things.

"Oh… Uh—" Yang mumbles, suddenly unable to speak.

"It was delicious, Raven," Blake interrupts, drawing the attention from her wife. "Is it your own recipe?"

The red-eyed woman manages a smile —the first Phoebe has seen on her since they arrived—, as small and brief as it is, barely more than a twitch of the lips.

"No, it’s something I learned years ago," she explains, regarding Blake with stern eyes. Phoebe would've seen it rude a few hours ago, but at this point she realizes that's most likely her default way of looking at people; it's a stark contrast to Tai's warmth-filled eyes, that's for sure, and it makes her wonder how did they even fall in love while being so different. "It's been a long time since the last time I made it," she continues, shaking her head.

"I'm glad we got to try it, then," the faunus responds politely.

"And here I thought I could still beat you at something. But no, you had to go and be an incredible cook as well," Tai adds with a happy-go-lucky expression, putting a hand on top of the woman's. To Phoebe's surprise, Raven's reaction to such tender words is a genuine smile, not fleeting like the previous, but one that lasts for a few seconds and makes the corner of her eyes crinkle in complicity. At least until he continues, glancing at the twins, "But hey, a special meal for a special occasion, right?"

Just as they’re once more brought into the spotlight, Raven withdraws into herself again, nodding and responding with a low, “O-Of course…”

Phoebe wishes she’d look at them right now, if only to notice her twin’s disappointed expression and her own glare… But she guesses it’d make little difference.

“Hey dad, how about we show them the old family album?” Yang suddenly suggests, ignoring —or trying to ignore— her mother’s awkwardness.

Tai looks back at her, confused by the sudden change of topic, but smiles nonetheless. “Really? You’ve never wanted me to show it to visitors.”

“Yet you always do it anyway, jerk!” she laughs, punching his arm; real hard, by Phoebe’s standards, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“Not today. Your kids, your call,” he adds, raising his arms in surrender before warning her with a lopsided grin, “but just so you know, once I open it there’s no turning back.”

“That’s okay. If half the island has seen the absolute unit I was as a kid, they should too,” she then turns to the two of them. “How’s that sound? Wanna have a little laugh before going to bed?”

Thanks to her nap from earlier, Phoebe still feels ready to go, only the slightest bit drowsy due to her full belly, so she nods and responds, “I’m in.”

Damon leans forward as well, yawning. “Me too, I can… I can stay a little longer.”

“Ok, but just fifteen minutes, and then to bed,” Yang finishes in a motherly tone before looking around the table with a frown. “We should clean this up first.”

Her dad nods and starts picking up the empty dishes, but is stopped by Raven, who rolls up the sleeves of her robe and takes the plates from him. “Go ahead, I’ll do the dishes.”

Considering she’s not going to appear in a single photo for obvious reasons, that’s probably for the best. It has to be awkward to be constantly reminded of the years she was gone and all the memories she renounced to.

Not like Phoebe pities her or anything.

Tai seems to give it a bit more thought than her, his expression growing conflicted, but the serene smile and nod from his wife makes him give up. So he simply sighs and closes in to place a kiss on her cheek. “Okay…”

As the rest of them stand up to leave the room, Blake suddenly starts helping her mother-in-law in clearing the table, which seems to catch Raven by surprise. “It’s alright, I can take care of it,” she says, cordial enough.

But the faunus shakes her head. “This is too much for one person, I can’t let you handle it on your own. It’d be impolite,” she explains kindly, gathering the glasses and piling them on an empty plate with an apologetic grin. “There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s my parents’ influence. Sorry.”

“Attagirl, Blake! I’m liking your family more and more every year,” Tai cackles, raising his eyebrows. “Can we all help now then?”

“Nope. Go and show them the album,” she dismisses them with a hand wave. “I’ve seen it so many times, every photo’s been burned into my brain.”

“You sure you don’t need help?” Yang asks, looking worried.

“Yeah, don’t worry. C’mon, you better hurry before Damon falls asleep while standing.”

All eyes turn to the boy in question, who’s on the brink of dozing off while leaning on his crutches, but he quickly perks up at the sudden mention of his name, opening his eyes wide like an owlet. “No! I-I’m okay, I’m okay, I can take it!”

“Sure you can, big boy...” Phoebe giggles, rolling her eyes.

“You’re right, we’re against the clock here. Let’s go,” Yang concedes with a titter, taking them with her as they abandon the living room and go upstairs with Tai. Despite her reassuring words, Phoebe hopes Blake doesn’t take too long to join them; as much as the faunus is acquainted with Yang’s mom, what she’s learned about the shady woman so far is enough to make her want to keep her at a safe distance.

For now.

  


* * *

  


“How can a baby have _that much_ hair?!” Phoebe wonders out loud, she and her brother already changed into their pajamas and sitting between the two grown-ups on the edge of the queen-sized bed.

The old and thick album lying open on their laps shows various pictures of a younger Tai tending to a little meatball with chubby cheeks and a small mop of golden hair; the man smiles and makes funny faces in most of them while the baby tries to mimic him, putting a silly grin on Phoebe’s face.

“What can I say? I was a gifted girl,” Yang shrugs next to her, flipping her mane proudly over her shoulders.

“Of course you were. In fact, it was such a gift that every time we had to cut it you raised hell upon everyone involved. And not just screams. You bit and scratched like your life depended on it,” Tai sneers, glancing down at Damon with an exaggerated look of terror on his face. “She’s probably traumatized more hairdressers than I’ve slayed Grimm in my life!”

The boy snorts, turning to the woman with quizzical eyes. “I don’t get it, why is it such a big deal? Hair grows back.”

“Yeah, but you know how long it takes for all this _gloriousness_ to grow back?” Yang retorts, genuinely offended. “That’s just too much for me.”

“Just wear it short for a while then. I don’t see the issue,” Phoebe deadpans. Her hair is really beautiful as it is, but she doubts it would look any less pretty at neck length, just like Blake’s.

The woman tries to find a convincing answer, but ends up pursing her lips in defeat and uttering a muffled “Heretic…” that makes the other three chuckle.

The first pages seem dedicated exclusively to Yang’s early years, when she was a toddler that could do little more than crawl around, although she’s in her dad’s arms in most of the photos. Even if her mother left them behind, Tai seemed to have centered his entire life around her, and as much as it must’ve hurt back then, his smile on the pictures seem nothing but genuine and overflowing with happiness; abandonment stings a lot less when you have someone on your side, she knows that very well.

“Um, Tai?” Damon stops the man as he’s about to jump to the next page.

“Yes, buddy?”

“Who took all of these?” He asks, pointing to the pictures depicting both of them.

Phoebe leans forward, raising her eyebrows. “Ohhh, you’re right, I didn’t notice that!”

Yang’s father smiles softly, looking down at the album. “That was Summer.”

“Who’s that?” Phoebe asks, glancing at Yang.

“My adoptive mom,” she replies, warmth filling her voice before flicking through the following pages, “she must be around here… Ah, look.”

After the sixth page, a new figure invades the pictures, substituting Tai as the one goofing around with Yang in her arms. A woman dressed in a pure white cloak with round delicate features, framed by a short curtain of obsidian hair that turns red at the tips, like night fading into dawn. Judging by the images, it’s obvious that she was just as close to the toddler as the man, holding her hands as she takes her first clumsy little steps, spoon feeding her or making her laugh by blowing raspberries on her belly. Her expression is sunny and full of mirth, one much more in sync with Tai’s personality than that of Raven, in Phoebe’s humble opinion.

“There are a couple pages of just the two of them. Every time she visited us after a mission she basically called dibs on Yang for a few days, which meant I was given camera duty,” Tai explains, barely able to hide the amusement in his voice due to the fond memories.

“Changing diapers included?” Yang inquires, the corner of her lips quirked up.

Her father gives a hearty nod, suddenly getting all serious. “Of course! If you call dibs on a baby, you call dibs for _everything_ , not just for playing and taking pictures.”

Wow, that really says a lot about her adoptive mother… That is to say, not many people would be willing to do that just to dote on a baby. But honestly, even if they hadn’t said anything, Phoebe could already tell the woman was completely in love with Yang just by looking at the photos.

Damon grimaces comically at the unnecessary fact. “Eww!”

“Eww _indeed_ ,” Yang agrees while patting their shoulders. “Just one more thing I’ll never have to go through thanks to my not-so-little pipsqueaks.”

Tai chortles, averting his eyes and muttering under his breath, “Yeah, we’ll see in twenty years.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“She had really pretty eyes,” Phoebe interrupts, her attention drawn to a picture taken from up close that has the woman giggling while baby Yang in her arms tries to reach for the camera.

“She did. That’s where Ruby got hers from,” Yang says, suddenly perking up and taking hold of the album again. “Speaking of which...”

Passing through a few more pages —filled with heartwarming images of the couple and the slowly growing blonde girl—, she finally stumbles upon one with yet another important addition. A picture of her adoptive mom lying on a hospital bed, with Tai and a slightly older Yang in his arms next to it. But at the very center, curled in Summer’s arms and drawing all eyes, is a tiny baby with just a little speck of blackish hair. Phoebe’s eyes quickly follow to the image below, a close-up of the newborn, looking straight into the camera with big eyes shining like pearls, the very same as her mother.

“That’s you sister? She was so cute!” Damon exclaims, going through the different shots at the little girl. “It’s hard to imagine this little thing becoming the best Huntress in the world.”

“Who would’ve thought, huh? But there she is, carrying the extinction of Grimm on her geeky shoulders,” Yang smirks, nodding to herself. “I remember when we were little, whenever we played she always w—”

A digital melody suddenly interrupts her, making Tai jump in surprise. “Oops, that’s mine,” he quickly takes his scroll out from his pocket and stares at the incoming call. “Huh, guess who it is.”

“Rubes?”

“Yup. But, uh,” he pauses, glancing at the twins for a second, “it’s a video call. Do you wanna…?”

Yang gets up from the bed, slightly alarmed. “O-Oh! No, not yet. It’ll be easier to explain face to face, and it’ll give her the option to kick my butt if it makes her feel better. Otherwise she’ll just sulk over it on her way here and it’ll be _much_ worse.”

“‘ _She’ll be the first to know, I promise_ ’,” Tai responds in a high-pitched tone while wiggling his eyebrows, mocking his blushing daughter and earning a punch in the shoulder.

“Shut up,” she blurts, looking down at the twins as her dad stands up and goes to the hallway. “We’ll see more pictures tomorrow, okay? Now get to bed,” then she turns to follow after Tai before peeking at them one last time, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As the two Xiao Longs leave, Phoebe and Damon are left alone in the bedroom, staring awkwardly at the door.

“What an earthquake of a family,” the girl chuckles, shaking her head.

“I like ‘em,” Damon shrugs, climbing down from the bed and hopping on his good leg to the smaller mattress at the other side of the room. “We’re not gonna get bored, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding,” she mutters, flicking one more page of the album for no reason in particular.

There are more photos of the hospital room with the happy family welcoming their new member, except there’s a new figure in some of them. A tall and skinny black-haired man with an easygoing smile and... wearing a cape. 

“Who’s this?” Phoebe whispers to herself, cocking an eyebrow. 

“The window side is mine!”

“Huh?!” she jolts up, dropping the album on the bed and following him. “No, it’s not! We’re drawing lots for that!”

“Nuh-uh! I’m still recovering, I have preference.”

“We’ll see about that!”

  


* * *

  


It’s not the first time Blake has helped her mother-in-law with daily chores, especially since an unspoken rule about the two-week staying during the Spring Festival is that everyone has to lend a hand with the house. The fact that they don’t really talk that much —even as they do the dishes side by side— makes them very efficient, so before she notices they manage to clean everything up.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no mention of Damon and Phoebe during the whole thing, not a thought about them, not even a congratulations on the adoption… Nothing at all. Which is exactly why Blake chose to stay behind with the pretense of helping her out. Raven has been far more withdrawn than usual —which is to say a lot—, and it’s not that hard to see that the twins have something to do with it, although the reason behind it still escapes her.

But that’s what she intends to fix.

Once her half of the dishes are clean and stored in the cupboard, the faunus makes for the door but lingers for a moment before the threshold, peeking at the woman still finishing her chore by the kitchen sink. She’s been thinking this whole time about how to start, but Yang’s mother is so intimidating that she just can’t find the right words.

“So?” Raven suddenly starts, her back still turned and her voice returning to her usual indifference; with her wild black mane tied up in a simple ponytail as she does the dishes, she looks like your normal, everyday mother, ironically. “Did Yang ask you to tell me to stay away from them?”

Apparently, her alibi wasn’t as good as she thought, or at least not good enough to fool the former bandit queen.

With a long sigh, Blake closes the door so they can have some privacy and turns to face her. “No, I’m here because I wanted to talk with you.”

“Well, you can rest assured. I’ll leave them alone.”

“That’s not what I want, Raven,” she quickly clarifies, frowning, then adds, “that’s not what Yang wants, either.”

This makes her glance away from the sink, her deep crimson eyes boring into hers, and Blake can tell she’s surprised by that statement. But her surprise is quickly replaced by a grimace of sheer indignation. “She can’t even talk to me, but she expects me to act like nothing happens with them?”

“Yes, because _nothing_ happens with them. Your relationship with her is one thing, but they have nothing to do with it,” Blake takes a step forward, slowly nodding to get her point across. “Yang was mature enough to accept you and Tai getting together again, and she’s mature enough to understand that denying you of the chance to know the kids would be unfair.”

Her mother-in-law holds her gaze for a moment —giving her hope to make her understand— but then turns to the dishes once more, chewing down on her lip and knitting her brows, and Blake sees once more that which has been there for everyone to see since the moment she made eye contact with the twins. As committee chairwoman of the FIS, Blake considers herself really good at reading other people’s emotions, and even though Raven is on the challenging side of the spectrum, there’s no way she’s mistaking this.

It’s hatred.

She didn’t want to believe it, because it made absolutely no sense, and she even told Phoebe as much when the poor girl sought her out trying to understand why the woman was acting like that around them.

“This isn’t about you and Yang, is it? It’s just an excuse,” Blake guesses, unable to hide her shock or the anger that comes with it. Raven doesn’t respond, but her breathing suddenly gets heavier and that tells her more than enough. “What’s your problem? You’ve just met them, you don’t know anything about them.”

Her wife’s mother growls under her breath, dropping the dish she was washing unceremoniously in the sink and leaning on the counter, while taking deep breaths like some sort of caged animal. Blake gets startled, but she doesn’t step back.

“Did she do it on purpose?” Raven finally asks, her voice filled with raw emotion.

“Did she do what?” The faunus counters, narrowing her eyes.

“Choosing those kids,” she responds, peeking at her from the corner of the eye. “Is this her way of punishing me after all these years? Ignoring me wasn’t enough?”

“What are you talking about? How do they have anything to do with anything?”

Raven laughs miserably, turning to face her with her hands still wet with water. “Maybe you can’t see it, but I do, and I’m sure she does as well,” she pauses, glancing away as if she couldn’t even get the words out. “How much they resemble me... and Qrow.”

Blake blinks a couple of times, that being the last excuse for her behaviour she expected to hear. It’s not like it’s too far-fetched, both pairs of siblings being twins and maybe sharing some physical traits, but it’s been so long that she didn’t even consider it before, she didn’t even think about it. Besides, it's just so trivial... For that same reasoning, Yang and her should get anxious anytime they’re near a red-headed bull faunus.

It’s ridiculous.

“ _That’s_ it?” she voices her thoughts, growing more annoyed but still trying to keep her tone under control. “You think we adopted them just to torture you about Qrow?”

“Of course not. A couple or orphaned twins, lost in the world, suddenly accepted into a caring and loving family...” Raven says sardonically, bitterness dripping from her voice. “How could that possibly torture me?”

Honestly, how arrogant can you be when you assume everything in the world revolves around you?

“If it’s torture, it’s only because you make it so.”

“It’s torture because everytime I look at them I’m reminded of _everything_ that has gone wrong in my life,” Raven hisses.

Her ears fall flat against her head and, no longer capable of keeping her own poison from coming out, Blake retorts, “Well, forgive us for trying to give them a better future. I guess we should have let them die on the streets and look for a pretty blonde cat faunus kid so you wouldn’t be guilt-tripped for all your awful life choices.”

She might as well have slapped the woman across the face, judging by her astounded reaction. A year ago, she would’ve been terrified to be on the receiving end of the murderous glare Raven is giving her, but right now she’s just mad at the unfairness of this whole situation. Phoebe and Damon don’t deserve that hate —or any kind of hate— just for being who they are, and Yang doesn’t deserve to have her hopes crushed after the colossal effort she made to allow them to reach out to her mother. It’s her own damn fault for choosing the easy way out time after time instead of accepting the help her family offered her, despite the dangers they faced.

However, after venting her frustration with Raven’s convoluted and broken emotions, she remembers why she’s doing this and tries to calm herself.

“Look,” Blake starts again after taking a deep breath, raising her hands in a pacifying gesture, “I’ve never liked you, that’s the truth. You’re the one person that’s hurt Yang the most by doing the least. And there was a time when I would’ve preferred it if you disappeared from her life, completely,” she pauses to gauge her expression, thankful that she’s still willing to listen despite her grim and —somewhat hurt— expression. “But I want to believe you’re different now, that you can still be that person she always hoped you’d become.”

The woman lowers her gaze to the floor and shakes her head, her face devoid of all emotion except for tired sadness; the face of someone who’s given up. “It doesn’t matter what you believe, Blake... Yang made it clear that she’d never forgive me.”

“She’s proud and stubborn, like you,” the faunus admits with a dejected smile. “But even if she denies it, I don’t think she’s renounced entirely to that hope.”

“What do you mean?” Raven asks, her red eyes confused but hopeful.

“The kids. Despite everything that happened, she doesn’t want to rob them of the chance to bond with you. Don’t you see this is an opportunity you’ll never get again?” she explains, hoping this approach will work better with the woman. “By warming up to them, you can slowly warm up to Yang as well, and reach out to her in a way you’d never have had on your own. Phoebe and Damon can be the bridge that closes the distance between you and your daughter... If you just give them a chance.”

Her words seem to have the desired effect on Raven, adding to the flurry of emotions passing across her worn features. However, instead of looking back at her and at least saying that she’ll try —like Blake hopes—, the former bandit merely wipes her hands on her dress and walks past the faunus with a despondent expression before leaving her alone in the kitchen.

This is as much as Blake can do. She can only hope the woman will ponder over everything she told her and make the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think I hate Raven or anything, it's just that her life has been quite a trainwreck up until this point. And I love me some family drama...
> 
> On a sidenote, RWBY celebrates its 100th episode and I celebrate one year of writing this story! (with a few weeks of delay...) Cheers to all of you, you fluffy beautiful people!


End file.
